


The Royal House of Clan Fraser: Act Two

by LallybrochLoser



Series: The One Where Scotland Won the Battle of Culloden [2]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Here we go!, Second Act, and it will hurt, btw someone else will die, later on though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LallybrochLoser/pseuds/LallybrochLoser
Summary: A new generation is upon the Kingdom of Scotland and its Sovereign. King James III and his beautiful wife, Queen Claire of Broch Tuarach, are expecting their first child. It will be the first royal birth since the king’s own, so there’s much excitement throughout the land. Even England and Wales are celebrating in their own ways! But, like Jamie’s controversial marriage to Claire, will the child’s existence within the Royal Family turn the tides of ancient, sacred traditions?
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Series: The One Where Scotland Won the Battle of Culloden [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769893
Comments: 176
Kudos: 295





	1. Hyperemesis Gravidarum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first trimester of the Queen's pregnancy is off to a rough start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a verra good mood today so TA-DA! Here's the first chapter of Act Two! :D enjoy and let me know what you think!

_Lallybroch Castle  
_ _Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser  
February 22, 1971_

Queen Claire Fraser of Broch Tuarach never imagined being _this_ ill during pregnancy.

She figured she’d wake up early in the morning, her guts needing to purge themselves, stomach breakfast, then puke once more before going about her day.

“I should have learned by now things wouldn’t be easy for me,” she told herself as she puked for the fourth time that afternoon alone.

According to the royal midwife, Mrs. Geillis Duncan, she was approximately seven weeks along in her pregnancy. The baby’s heartbeat was as strong as ever (much to Jamie’s delight) but she wasn’t showing yet.

“First time expectant mothers arena likely tae show before halfway through, ye ken,” Geillis chirped cheerfully as she cleaned up her medical equipment. “ But I am a wee bit concerned wi’ how much yer upchucking throughout the day.”

“Is it not normal?” Jamie asked.

“Weel, some women will go through the usual bouts of morning sickness, some women only vomit ‘afore bedtime, and some dinna do it at all! But fer ye, Yer Majesty,” Geillis inclined her head towards Claire, “I wanna keep an eye on ye. Watch fer signs o’ dehydration and sleep deprivation.”

“Alright,” Claire said weakly. “Thank you, Mrs. Duncan.”

“Och, ‘tis what I’m here fer, Yer Majesties!” Geillis curtsied before the royal couple. “It ‘tis my duty tae ensure ye have the healthiest wee prince or princess ye can have!”

When she left, she bolted out of the exam room and to the nearest bathroom to puke her guts out once more.

Jamie, ever the diligent father-to-be, was hot on her heels. He gently pulled her hair back as she retched into the toilet.

“I gotchye, _mo nighean donn,_ ” he cooed softly, smoothing a few stray curls from her sweating face. “Take yer time.”

Claire wiped her face as she yanked the metal pull cord to flush the vomit away. She dry heaved some before taking a deep breath. Sitting beside her on the floor, Jamie summoned someone to bring a cold washcloth to dab her heated forehead with.

“This too shall pass, my queen,” Jamie touched her temple with the lightest of kisses.

“I hope so,” Claire groaned, leaning into her husband and king. Though the smell of his cologne made her want to heave again, his warmth was comforting. “I have royal duties to attend to. I was supposed to-”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie nodded at the maid who had brought the cloth. As she curtsied to them, he delicately swabbed her brow. “I had Jenny take over yer duties fer the day. I plan tae take the matter ‘afore the court so ye can focus on yer health. And that o’ the bairn’s.”

He set the cloth down to place one large hand over her still-flat abdomen. She placed her own much smaller hand over it.

“We will have this child together,” Jamie said with a smile. “And he will be braw.”

That got a chuckle out of Claire. “How do you know it’s a boy? For all we know, we could be having a princess, rather than a prince.”

Jamie’s smile vanished slightly, just enough for Claire to notice.

“Well...” he helped her to her feet, and they didn’t leave the examination room until he was certain she had her balance. “More like wishful thinkin’. If fer nothing else...ye better hope it’s a lad ye got in yer belly. The Scottish Crown canna be inherited by a princess.”

Claire almost tripped over her own feet. “What do you mean?” She outraged.

Jamie sighed, knowing she would react this way. “It’s the law. But truthfully, Sassenach...that’s the least o’ my concerns. We need tae make sure ye actually survive the pregnancy ‘afore we get worked up over who will take our place as Sovereign when the time comes.”

With that note, Claire put the issue to rest. Jamie was right; it was too soon to tell right now what they were having. No point in worrying over what could amount to nothing.

\---

_March 1971_

The so-called “morning sickness” lasted throughout the entire day, and sometimes interrupted Claire’s sleep at night. She couldn’t keep any food down, no matter how bland it smelled or tasted.

Desperate for relief, the Queen ordered every female servant who had had children to give suggestions on how to alleviate her ailment. Dozens of techniques were tested, and none of them worked. It brought Claire to the verge of tears.

Jenny had indeed taken up all Claire’s royal duties while she battled intense pregnancy sickness, and with no complaint. The Scottish people were actually thrilled to see the Princess out in the open again, though they openly worried for their Queen.

Jamie did his best to continue with his own royal duties as King, but he found himself by his wife’s side more times than not.

Things took a turn for the worse when Jamie discovered Claire unconscious on the toilet room floor, freshly produced vomit in the toilet.

“CLAIRE?!”

He didn’t bother wasting precious seconds checking to see if she was actually alive. He gathered her into his arms, sweat-soaked pyjamas and all, picked her up off the floor and raced towards the courtyard where Auld Alec kept the cars. He didn’t care who was on driving duty at this time of night. His Queen needed emergency medical attention and fast. His heart beat frantically in his chest at how light she felt in his grasp. _Has she been losing weight? Iffrin!_

“Yer Majesty?! What the devil-”

“As yer King, I command ye tae take me and my wife to the closest hospital! Dinna delay, man! Her and the bairn’s lives depend upon it!”

\---

_“Hyperemesis gravidarum,”_ the doctor had said.

Jamie sat next to Claire’s unconscious form in a hospital bed, the adrenaline still rushing through his veins hours after startling the entire emergency department’s staff with their Queen’s lifeless form in his arms. The manic expression on his face told everyone there was no time to waste. Nobody dared delay getting one of Scotland’s Sovereign’s into a bed and treatment started as fast as humanly possible.

_“It’s rather rare, Yer Majesty, but it can be treated. That’s the good news.”_

_“And the bad?” Jamie had asked, not letting go of his wife’s hand._

_“Until there’s significant signs of improvement, such as regaining of lost weight, metabolic balances restored, Her Majesty will have tae remain in hospital and willna be able tae leave. We will contact the royal midwife.”_

All the lab results had come back showing just how bad Claire’s condition had gotten. She’d lost at least five percent of her overall body weight, making her look so frail it scared Jamie to his core. They were so worried about her electrolytes that her heart was currently being monitored through a machine that echoed her heartbeat throughout the room. That sound kept Jamie company has his wife and queen slept.

Jamie tried to think of what events in his life had been worse than this moment. He thought of all the deaths in his family: his mother, brothers, and then his father, which led to him becoming King as such a young age. All the time he had been in the clink for his various petty crimes in the last decade or so. But he drew up short.

Nothing compared to the possibility of losing the love of his life so soon in their marriage. And with that, the child of their that she carried.

\---

_Lallybroch Castle_   
_Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser_   
_11 March 1971_   
_6:00pm Local Time_

##  **QUEEN IN HOSPITAL FOR PREGNANCY COMPLICATIONS. KING REMAINS VIGILANT BY HER SIDE, BESIDE HIMSELF WITH GRIEF**

It didn’t take long for the news to spread that Claire was in hospital, with the king refusing to leave her side. Everyone at Lallybroch Castle tried their best to continue about their daily living, but it was hard knowing their leaders were in the throws of such a crisis. Reading the newspaper headlines about the Queen’s illness for the third morning in a row, Lord Murtagh was about to take a trip to said hospital to go visit his godson and goddaughter when a servant approached him.

“Lord Murtagh,” he said, “a telephone call from His Majesty King James III.”

“Perfect timing, if ye ask me, lad,” the older man smiled at the younger man as he made his way towards his bed chamber on the third floor. He picked up the receiver.

_“Initiating transmission from His Majesty King James III.”_ A few beeps were heard before Jamie’s voice came through on the other end.

_“A ghoistidh.”_

“Hey there, laddie. How’s Claire?” Murtagh asked over the phone.

_“She’s sleepin’ less now that she’s had some intravenous hydration go through her system. Stillna able tae eat more than some broth and crisps at present.”_

“Christ, it’s been weeks since she was admitted. I canna imagine how she must feel.”

_“She’s a braw fighter, Murtagh. Ye should see her.”_

“I was thinkin’ o’ comin’ up there sometime tomorrow. If it isna too much trouble.”

There was a pause on the other end. _“She’d be delighted tae see ye, man. She just told me.”_

“Is she awake? May I speak wi’ mah’ queen?”

Jamie chuckled on the other end, some static came through before a tired yet fierce feminne voice sounded.

_“Murtagh?”_

“Och, as I live and breathe!” Murtagh chuckled as he bowed to no one. “Ye couldna see it, but I bowed tae ye, Yer Majesty.”

She laughed weakly, but Murtagh could tell she gave it her all.

_“It is so good to hear from you. How are you?”_

“Christ, woman, I should be asking you that! Jamie tells me yer gettin’ better.”

_“Yes,”_ Claire’s voice was feeble; clearly it was taking all her strength to stay awake long enough to speak. _“I’m not vomiting as much as I was before, but it’s still happening. No weight gain as of yet, but my levels are coming back up. The doctor says if I can manage to gain at least one kilogram, he’ll release me. By some bloody miracle-”_ Murtagh heard her attempt to stifle a yawn, _“the baby has been unaffected by this.”_

“That’s good news indeed. Lallybroch Castle isna the same wi’out its royals. But dinna fash yerself, Yer Majesty. I’m keepin’ them in line.”

_“If by ‘in line’ you mean you’re yelling at them to not burn your toast, then I suppose I can’t help it if Jamie and I aren’t there.”_

Murtagh laughed. He could hear Jamie’s laughing from the other end with him. More static sounded before Jamie’s voice came back on.

_“Claire needs her rest, Murtagh. She was barely able tae hold the phone tae her ear, so I’ll pass on yer good wishes,_ a ghoistidh.”

“Aye, ye do that. We look forward tae the blessed Scottish Crown residing at the Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser once again!”

_“I’ll speak tae ye soon.”_ And with that, Jamie hung up.

\---

_23 March 1971_

##  **QUEEN BROCH TUARACH RELEASED FROM HOSPITAL! KING JAMES III ECSTATIC ABOUT UPCOMING ROYAL BIRTH!**

Of all the interviews Jamie had had to give since becoming king, this one was by far his favorite. He didn’t speak about the Queen’s recent troubles in great detail, but outlined how they were both happy and excited to become parents. With the potential to provide Scotland with its future heir apparent.

Claire was happy to be away from her husband during that particular interview. While she was equally excited to become a mother, the tiny thought about any daughters they might have being legally ineligible to become Sovereign niggled the back of her mind.

What if that’s all her and Jamie had? What if they weren’t able to provide Scotland with a future king? What if Jenny and Ian didn’t want to have children of their own? What then? Would Scotland’s first and only Royal Family just...die out?

These thoughts plagued the queen’s mind as her and her king went to bed that night.


	2. An Heir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second trimester is easier and Claire is starting to finally enjoy being pregnant, and resumes her royal duties as Queen. But something is still bothering her.

_Lallybroch Castle_ _  
_ _Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser_ _  
_ _12 April 1971_

Claire’s entry into her second second trimester of pregnancy was a welcomed relief. She was no longer vomiting at all hours of the day and night, and was eager to jump back into her duties as Queen of Scotland. It brought Jamie an equal amount of relief too; he could now sleep easier at night knowing his wife and unborn child were safe.

With the King poised to embark on a nationwide tour of the least fortunate parts of Scotland, that would leave Claire to maintain the more local duties, particularly designing the future nursery for the royal bundle of joy.

“Now, the colour schemes ye chose are wonderful, Yer Majesty,” Margot drabbled on as Claire walked through the currently-empty room that would serve at her unborn child’s nursery. It boasted a wide window that brought in plenty of the natural light left in the waning day, and a perfect view of the grounds. In one corner, you could see her gardens and greenhouses, and the other side showed off a good portion of the swimming hole that Jamie and his siblings used to spend the hotter days of summer at.

“Yes,” Claire replied absentmindedly. “Gray, aqua, and coral...we still don’t know whether this little one will be a boy or girl…” she absentmindedly rubbed a hand over the ever-growing swell of her abdomen, “I want to make sure their room has a colour scheme tailored to either gender.”

“A verra smart move, indeed, Yer Majesty!” Margot went on. “Now, we’ve already ordered the furniture, but it’ll be some time ‘afore they’re here, seeing as they’re tae be custom built and all, per yers and His Majesty’s request.”

Claire’s hearing dropped off at the thought of Jamie. Her King.

“Speaking of His Majesty,” Claire said, not realizing until after the fact that she’s interrupted Margot. “When is he scheduled to return from the southwestern Isles?”

“Sometime tomorrow, Yer Majesty,” Margot answered.

“Good,” Claire sighed with relief, “he’ll be home in time for my appointment.”

“Ach yes!” Margot squealed with delight. “Time tae find out if yer carryin’ a wee prince or princess! Are ye excited? Do ye hope fer a lad or lassie?”

Claire just smiled at her private secretary without answering. Truthfully, she was scared. She personally didn’t care about the gender; as long as their baby was healthy, everything else was an afterthought. If she was, indeed, carrying a boy, then her fears would be unfounded. But she knew not to ignore her instincts. Something in the back of her mind was telling her she had a wee lassie swimming around in her womb. There were no indications that proved such as fact, but…

“Yer Majesty,” Lord Murtagh walked into the future nursery, bowing formally to his Queen. “There’s a telephone call fer ye from the King.”

“Thank you, Murtagh,” Claire said, “I’ll be down to my room in just a-”

“If Her Majesty will forgive me,” Murtagh interrupted, causing Margot to hide the shock on her face, “ye’ll be takin’ the call in His Majesty’s study. Per the request of Himself, aye?”

Claire was about to reprimand Murtagh for speaking to her in that manner, but she could see the mischievous glint in his eye. _What in the world was Jamie up to?_

“Very well,” Claire concluded. “Is His Majesty requesting me now?”

“Aye, Madam.”

“Alright,” Claire smoothed the dress over her ever-growing bump. “Lead the way, Lord Murtagh.”

Murtagh bowed before Claire as she exited the future nursery and followed him throughout the halls towards Jamie’s study. The older man didn’t say a word to her, and she just acknowledged all the servants and guards that bowed their heads or curtsied with a slight incline of her own head.

The guardsmen standing on either side of the door didn’t wait for anyone to say anything. They just opened the solid oak double doors to the Queen.

“Just in here, Madam,” Murtagh said before walking away. Claire was about to call out to him, asking where he was going, but she just huffed an annoyed breath and entered the study. The guards closed the doors after her, also without a word.

The study was void of any life, and Jamie’s desk was in the same state of disarray that he left it a week before.

She walked over to pick up the phone, but a familiar voice stopped her.

“Sassenach.”

Claire jumped, placing one hand over her mouth and the other over her pounding heart. She looked towards the partially drawn curtains of the large bay window to the right of the entrance to see Jamie standing there, hidden out of sight if you didn’t know where to look.

“Jamie!” Claire breathed. They were in each other’s arms in a second, holding onto each other like a lifeline. “I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow at least!”

“Aye, well,” Jamie smiled, looking down towards her pregnant belly. He placed a tentative hand over the swell, his smile widening. “We’d finished our business o’er the course o’ a few days. I told everyone tae say that I’d be home later, but in reality, I wanted tae surprise ye.”

“Well, surprise me you did,” Claire sighed, leaning into her husband’s tall, sturdy frame. “It’s always good to have you home.”

“I hope the bairn’s no’ been givin’ ye trouble,” Jamie got down on his knees and kissed the bump, just above her navel, and placed the side of his face against it. “Ye still got that appointment tomorrow, aye?”

“Yes, we do.” Claire ruffled Jamie’s hair a bit before caressing the bump for herself. “I’m six months along today, hoping to have a look on the inside. In addition to the usual check up, I’m to have a sonogram too. What are you doing?”

Jamie was pressing his head harder into her middle. “I’m tryin’ tae listen fer a wee heartbeat...but all I’m gettin’ is that yer hungry.”

Claire laughed, then groaned, feeling her stomach gnarl itself with hunger pangs. “Yes, I know...I swear I’m always hungry. I can’t seem to eat enough to feel satisfied. It’s ridiculous. And the things I’ve been eating! Ugh… the other day, I was eating fried pickle crisps with mayonnaise, buttered salmon with lemon and raspberry jam toast! All at once!”

Jamie wrinkled his nose at the thought. “If ye werena wi’ child, I’d imagine it would be doing drastic wonder tae yer waistline!”

“Don’t even talk about my waistline, King James III, or I’ll have you banished from here!” Claire sounded indignant but couldn’t stop the giggle in her voice.

“I dinna think ye’ll need tae take such action, Sassenach, as the wean is tryna do that on his own!” Claire looked down and saw that, indeed, their unborn child was kicking against the side of Jamie’s head, causing it to bound up and down a bit. She laughed at this.

“Funny, she always kicks the hardest when you’re close,” Claire pressed the side of Jamie’s head harder into her middle. The bobbing of his head became more pronounced. 

“How d’ye ken it’s a ‘she’, Sassenach? She could verra weel be a ‘he’.”

Claire sighed. “I know, but...I don’t know...I might not be a mother just yet, but I already feel those...instincts...”

Jamie hummed at this. “Aye. I ken fine what ye mean, _mo nighean donn._ Come, Sassenach. Let us prepare fer dinner.”

\---

_Three Days Later_

**SCOTLAND’S HEIR APPARENT! SOVEREIGNS DECLARE THEY’RE EXPECTING A BRAW LAD!**

Geillis Duncan, the goddess that she was, performed all the tests required, some traditional, some eccentrically pagan in origin (Claire could only surmise), some considered essential practice in the art of childbirth, and even managed to acquire a sonogram machine for her appointment. All of the signs and results pointed towards Jamie and Claire were due to have a son come September.

While Jamie couldn’t wait to show it off to everyone he knew, Sovereign or not, and Claire was externally relieved at the notion of just _knowing,_ she couldn’t ignore her instincts. But why would her internal strife not be calmed already? The tests were as foolproof as humanly possible! There were testimonials of women throughout the United Kingdoms of Britannia that swore whatever they were predicted to have, have they did. So, why was Claire still convinced in her mind and heart that she was going to have a girl rather than a boy?

\---

_Angel of Mercy Medical Clinic_ _  
_ _Isle of Arran_   
_Western Scotland_ _  
3:00pm Local Time_

“Are ye weel, Yer Majesty?” one of the hostess asked Claire.

“Oh, yes, I’m well, thank you,” Claire responded with her warmest smile.

The Queen was at a ribbon cutting ceremony this day for a new low income clinic opening up in one of the western isles of Scotland, her King right behind her during her speech.

“...The King and I look forward to this establishment welcoming all who seek medical aid and intervention with open hearts and open minds, for generations to come. Thank you all and God bless!” She finished just as a loud round of applause sounded from the crowd.

As Herself and the King were being escorted back to their car to head back to Lallybroch Castle, Jamie could no longer ignore the worrying look that lingered on his wife’s face.

“I dinna think there’s anythin’ in the world that could erase the meaning o’ that look, Yer Majesty,” Jamie divulged, a sly grin slipping across his face.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Claire dismissed frustratedly, hoping Jamie wasn’t reading into her glass face too much. “I’m _fine._ I’m not the first woman to ever become pregnant and work what is essentially a full time job!”

Jamie scooted closer to her in the car. “If I offended ye, Claire, I’m sorry.”

Claire looked at him, the shame and guilt on his face. She reluctantly sighed. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. But...I _really am_ fine, Jamie. _We’re_ fine.” She looked down and smoothed a gloved hand over the seven-month swell of her belly. Jamie smiled.

“Aye,” Jamie bent low to kiss the belly, resulting in being instantly rewarded with a kick to the cheek. “The lad kens his faither weel, does he no’?” He chuckled as he laid his head atop her expansive womb.

Claire smiled at this, slowly running her fingers through his hair as he rubbed her belly slowly, whispering nothing but love and adoration in Gàidhlig to their unborn son.

The Queen really did hope that she was worrying over nothing. That it was just the pregnancy hormones making her emotions all the more heightened. But in reality, she didn’t believe she’d ever be convinced she was carrying a boy until the child was born with the required anatomy to be declared as such.


	3. Or Perhaps Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire doesn’t mind the attention she’s getting being eight months pregnant. But things take a turn when she goes into labor early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was heavily influenced by my own childbirth experience. Though, I did the world a favor and left the more gross aspects of giving birth out of it :) you're welcome.  
> LOL Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

_Lallybroch Castle_   
_Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser_   
_23 August 1971_

The tiny yet perpetual flutter of a heartbeat echoed loud and strong against the walls of one of the examination rooms deep within the halls of Lallybroch. The accelerated pulse hummed with Jamie’s own blood. Despite his wife and Queen being a few days shy of eight months along in her pregnancy, despite this not being the first time he’d heard the sound, it still brought a tears to his eyes. The very notion that his son, his heir apparent, was alive, kicking and thriving within the squishy confines of Claire’s belly gave him the most elated feelings of giddiness. Within a few short months, their son would be here, in the real world. Here to be held, here to be loved, and cherished by all whom his parents allowed to surround him. There wouldn’t be a soul in the castle who wouldn’t want to embellish him with their affections and attentions.

“Yer Majesty?” Geillis called out to Jamie, just as Claire squeezed his hand to get his attention.

“My apologies, Madam,” Jamie professed. “Ye were sayin’?”

“I was saying that yer wee laddie’s heart rate is a bit brisk, but that isna uncommon during this stage of growth,” Geillis repeated, packing away the doppler machine as Claire wiped her bare belly of a clear gelatin substance. “Tends tae happen when yer gettin’ closer tae the birth.”

“But wouldn’t that mean I’d be going into labor too soon?” Claire asked, concern in her voice.

“Not always,” Geillis smiled. “From my calculations and inspections of yer prince, he’s growin’ fine like a braw ox. Dinna fash yerself, Yer Majesties. I still see him bein’ born a few weeks shy of Samhain!”

“Fine by me,” Jamie grinned, helping Claire to sit up. “S’long as the lad’s healthy. Everything else will be fine.”

Geillis curtsied before both her Sovereigns and left the room so Claire could get changed. Or, rather, so Jamie could help her change. She always wore a simple cotton dress anytime Geillis came by for her now-weekly “bairn check” as Jamie had started calling it. But now that she was so close to full term, she couldn’t do anything herself anymore. Least of all get dressed.

Walking was too painful as Claire’s feet and ankles were twice their normal size. Margot had taken it upon herself to pick out her outfits, another set of maids had to help her dress, and Margot and Jamie would come in to make sure she was fitted well in her clothes. She could no longer bent over to pick up anything she might drop, she found herself almost tripping on anything that might be in her path, so much so that Murtagh had taken it as his duty to accompany the queen wherever she might need to go, until Jamie returned home from his royal duties away from the castle.

It wasn’t all bad though. At least, as far as Jamie and Claire were concerned. Many royal dignitaries from around the world had sent them lavish presents and publicly wished them well on the impending birth of their first child. Even all the way from Russia and America!

King William Dunsany of England and his wife, Queen Louisa had ordered the finest tea set and shipped to directly to Lallybroch Castle’s front door, with a signed card from all the princesses. Including a personal note from Princess Geneva herself to Jamie. He blushed as Claire read it over his shoulder.

_“In honor of your newest arrival, please accept this handmade set of teething safe silicone toys that I oversaw at the manufacturer’s warehouse myself. I am so thankful to God that you found happiness, James. I myself am heading that way soon! I am betrothed to one of Morocco's princes and shall be wed next spring! I do hope this letter and gift finds you in good spirits and great health._

_Much love,_

**_Princess Geneva xx_ ** _”_

“She seems to know who you are, Jamie,” Claire mused, seeing her husband’s cheeks go redder than before.

“Aye” Jamie articulated. “She, erm...was one of Jenny’s matches. Way back when.”

“Ahh,” Claire sighed, sitting down and grumbling at all the baby gifts they still had to go through. “It seems like a lifetime ago when your sister was adamant about finding you a wife and keeping me at least a hundred metres away.”

Jamie chuckled at that, reflecting. “Aye, though it isna, no’? We’ve come a long way since then, Sassenach. I’m grateful fer ye.” Claire smiled as he brought her hand to his lips for a sweet, brief kiss.

King Rees the Great of Wales and his wife had supplied their nursery with all the linen it could possibly go through in a baby’s first few years. And they all matched the color scheme Jamie and Claire had decided on.

“Never kent the Welsh tae be sae detail oriented,” Jamie asserted with a cheeky grin. “Wi’ this many sheets fer the crib _and_ bassinet in our bed chamber, we might have tae sack the laundromaids!”

Claire laughed. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far. Everything that will touch the baby’s skin will have to be washed first. And who knows how many dirty nappies this child will go through. He could soil every single one of these in a single night!”

Jamie shuddered at the thought. “Dinna remind me, Sassenach.”

“What? I hope you’re not insinuating that changing diapers is _women’s work_.”

“If I believed that, I wouldna be alive right now!”

Both of them exchanged a giggle before moving onto the next set of presents. By the time they were finished, it was well past either of their bedtimes. Claire was insistent that she walk the whole way to their bed chamber, but Jamie swept her off her feet, pregnant belly and all, and carried her.

“Just like old times, my King,” Claire moaned seductively. “Always sweeping me off my feet.”

“Just as ye deserve, My Queen.”

\---

_11 September 1971_ _  
__Royal Greenhouses_  
 _Lallybroch Castle_ _  
_10:43am Local Time

“I just want to get these nasty roots up before they infest the entire greenhouse,” Claire huffed in annoyance at Margot, “they have the capacity to kill all the work I’ve done in the last four months!”

“I understand, Yer Majesty, truly I do, but the King wanted ye tae-”

“Fuck what the King says! These are my gardens, and He designated for me to do whatever to them I pleased- ACH!”

A sharp, bone-splitting pain ripped through Claire’s lower back, causing her to drop the spade in her hand. It clanked onto the ground just as another surge of pain rippled around her middle. The Queen clung to her belly protectively, the sweat starting to bead up around her temple and hairline.

“Yer Majesty?! Whatever is amiss?!” Margot dropped the bundle of plants Claire was going to be putting in the earth and rushed to her Sovereign. “Is it the bairn?”

More pain radiated throughout Claire’s body, and she screamed, sending her to her knees.

“GUARDS!” Margot called out, and in half a heartbeat, several of the Royal Guardsmen surrounded the women. Three of them were in the process of getting Claire to stand, but she was more limp than a ragdoll with the amount of pain she was in. Margot looked at the other five behind her.

“What are our orders, Mistress Gilmichael?” one of the guardsmen asked.

“Ring the midwife, Geillis Duncan, send fer her straight away. It’s urgent. And summon the King! His son is on the way!”

\---

“Yer contractions are about three minutes apart, Yer Majest-”

“Please Geillis, for the love of God, there’s no need for formalities here. Claire is fine.”

“Aye, Claire,” Geillis corrected herself. “As I was sayin’ yer contractions are about three minutes apart, and given what I’m feelin’ here, yer already a centimeter, maybe two, dilated. This laddie has decided tae have a birthday ‘afore Mabon!”

“But that’s too early!” Claire exclaimed. “He’s not due until October the 7th!”

“I ken weel, Claire, but that doesna matter now. He’s comin’ now. But it might take a while. First time births usually take the longest compared tae any subsequent children ye may have later. Imma keep on ye, so get as comfortable as ye can. Yer no’ leavin’ this room until yer a mam!”

“Where is my husband?” Claire asked.

“I’m here, Sassenach!” Jamie called out as he hurriedly rushed into the room and sat beside his wife.

Relief flooded out all the anxiety Claire was feeling the moment his hand brushed away some of her sweat-soaked flyaway hairs.

“Jamie,” Claire breathed, then shouted as another pain cascaded through her body. She gripped Jamie’s hand with all her strength, and he didn’t waver once, even though he felt his hand was being broken in five different places.

“I’ll be back in another hour,” Geillis declared, giving the expectant royal couple some time together. “If ye feel anymore fluid rush out o’ ye, especially if it’s blood, call fer me straight away. I’ll no’ be leavin’ the castle til yer laddie’s in yer arms.”

The door closed, leaving the King and Queen of Scotland alone.

“Where are you been?” Claire laid back onto the multitude of pillows behind her, panting hard.

“If our son’s coming intae the world today, I canna and willna be King. I am a husband first, a father second.” He gingerly rubbed a hand over her belly, looking down upon it with love. “I ordered all royal business shut down throughout Scotland. Fer the rest o’ the week, ye ken. Until the lad is here and safe, I’ll no’ be leavin’ yer side.”

For the next several hours, and well into the next morning, Geillis would pop back in here and there, but it was more or less up to Claire to bear the pain of labor. Save to use the toilet, Jamie did not leave her side. Each meal that was offered to the royals were refused, despite Claire insisting that Jamie should keep up his strength and eat.

“If ye canna stomach food yerself, how the hell am I supposed tae sit here and eat in yer presence? No, Sassenach. We will share our meals together as we should, wi’ our lad.”

Too tired to argue, Claire let it go once the night turned into day and breakfast was (attempted) to be served.

“Good morning’ tae the soon-tae-be new parents!” Geillis said cheerfully, but the mood in the room was too dour for it to thrive. “Let’s see where ye are, Claire. D’ye feel like ye need to push yet?”

“No,” Claire breathed, exhausted. The contractions maintained their three-minutes-apart status all night, and it left the poor queen with the question of whether or not she would be able to push.

“Good news! Yer almost dilated enough to start pushing!” Geillis announced.

“Is there any bad news?” Jamie asked.

Geillis felt around between Claire’s legs, making her grunt in discomfort. “None sae far as I can teel.” She brought out the fetal doppler machine to check the baby’s heartbeat for the thousandth time. Loud and strong as it was before, Geillis nodded. “The babe’s no’ in distress, otherwise his heartbeat would have changed.”

Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. “Good news indeed.” He gripped Claire’s hand, but it was limp and didn’t squeeze back. “Claire?”

“Claire?” Geillis noticed the queen’s lack of response, and pinched the space between her right thumb and index finger.

Claire jolted upright in response and gasped. “I’m awake...”

“Ye gave yer puir king a fright, hen!” Geillis said, bringing a cool damp cloth to her forehead. “No’ much longer now, aye?”

A contraction exploded throughout Claire’s middle, and she screamed louder and harder than she ever had. A rush of fluid came out of her and dampened the bedspread.

“I think my water broke, Geillis,” Claire exhaled.

“The good news just keeps comin’!” Geillis exclaimed. “Since yer sae far dilated, shouldna be long ‘afore-”

“I need to push!” Claire cried out.

“Ye need tae push,” Geillis finished with a smirk. “Jamie, sit behind Claire. Imma go fetch us some more hands, aye?”

“There are servants and maids who are trained as emergency medical personnel,” Jamie said, doing as he was instructed while Geillis was walking towards the door. “Ask Lord Murtagh fer all hands on deck. He’ll ken what tae do.”

“As ye say, Milord,” Geillis curtsied for the first time in almost 24 hours and dashed out.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie whispered to Claire. “All will be well. I’m here.”

Right as rain, Geillis returned with several familiar faces that Jamie knew had tried to save his father’s life not a year ago. Now, they would be aiding in bringing new life into the castle. The thought warmed his heart.

One person stood at Claire’s feet, holding them in place as she brought her legs up to crouch, a few others stood aside by the makeshift crib for when the child would be born, and Murtagh came to the opposite side of Jamie to hold Claire’s hand. Jenny walked into the room right behind them all.

“Jenny!” Claire called out, and Jamie made room for her. Now, her husband and sister in law were supporting her from behind.

Everything was ready.

“Alright,” Geillis proclaimed. “Let’s bring Scotland’s newest royal into the world! And...push!”

The actual pushing took about four and a half hours, and was the worst part for Claire. There was no time to breathe between pushes, for she had to keep at it with every contraction until her son was here.

The Queen’s screams and cries echoed throughout the castle.

“I see his heid!” Geillis shouted with joy. “Alright, one more big push and he’ll be here! Go!”

The final push sent spasms of pain throughout Claire’s body, and she clung to Jamie and Jenny as if she were dying. Jamie and Jenny, like Claire, were grunting with pain and agony as Claire’s grip, though weakened by labor, did not decrease the strain of their own strength.

Then they all heard it. A healthy shrill of a high pitched wail replaced Claire’s own cries of anguish.

“He’s here!” Geillis proclaimed, and handed off the infant to the team waiting for him. “Now, one final push fer the afterbirth, aye? Yer almost done, Claire! Ye’ve done a braw job!”

Jamie was crying now too, his tears mingling with his wife’s.

“Mistress Duncan,” one of the maids called out.

“Not now, Annie,” Geillis’ response was tart.

“But-”

“I canna come o’er there just now, what is it?”

“There’s a wee problem.”

That caused everyone to freeze in place.

“What d’ye mean?” Jamie called out, his heart hammering. Jenny took this time to get up and see the child. When she peered into the wee cot, she gasped audibly.

“What’s wrong with our baby?” Claire said. No one spoke, which aggravated her. “As your Queen, I DEMAND to know what is wrong with your future sovereign!”

“It’s, erm...” Jenny said so softly, Jamie and Claire almost missed it.

Jamie took this time to get up and look upon his child.

His face went whiter than a sheet of paper.

“Jamie?” Claire said, her lower lip quivering.

He looked up at her, and the utter terror on his face was enough for Claire to start crying. His voice, stoic enough to cause people to back away from him.

“We’ve a princess, Sassenach.”


	4. Happiness is Fleeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scotland’s Royal Couple are put at odds with one another when their newly-born son turns out to be a daughter instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy World Outlander Day! Chapters 4 and 5 will be released together! YAY! While I didn’t intend to wait so long, today seems like a great day to give y’all a double release :D Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Time stood still as everyone grappled at the situation in front of them.

In the form of a writhing, wailing, hungry infant, swaddled in a gender-neutral swath.

An infant that was not a boy, as previously thought, but a girl.

A princess.

Who would never succeed her father as Sovereign so long as the current, and ancient, laws were in place.

Jamie looked down upon his daughter. Claire still sat in her childbed, desperately looking between her husband, sister-in-law, and midwife.

But she was mostly looking at her husband. Her king. Who was more than likely fuming on the inside over this devastating fact.

She tried to read his face, tried to see and sense what he was feeling. But, as usual, he was like a stone. If he didn’t want to convey how or what he was feeling, nobody ever would. Especially her.

“Jamie,” Claire said so softly almost nobody heard her.

The sound of his name escaping her lips caused him to jerk his head up, but he didn’t look at her. Actually, he didn’t look at anyone, or anything.

Swift as the wind, he collected himself, and left the room.

“Jamie!” Claire called out to him, as if to will him back to her.

“Yer Majesty!” Others called after him, but it wasn’t long before doors could be heard slamming shut, hard, and the sound of Auld Alec’s car pulling out of its usual covered drive.

He left.

King James III of Scotland had abandoned his wife and newborn daughter.

It was the only logical explanation Claire could come up with as Geillis began to clean her up, and the assistants in the room starting preparing the new princess for her first feeding. She was bathed with warm water from a basin nearby and the tender hand of Margot.

The Queen’s private secretary was in quiet tears, marveling at her witnessing the miracle of life coming into the world.

“Och,” Margot whispered, “the bonniest lass in all the land!” 

While she basked in the feeling of handling the princess, her Queen sat numb. Completely void of all feeling, energy, or care. She knew she would be very sore  _ down there _ for a few weeks, and she would have to take extra precautions when bathing and using the toilet, but right now, the only thing she had on her mind was her husband. And the heir they did not have.

Once Claire was properly cleaned and situated in her childbed, the princess was brought to her for nursing. Gellis did her best to explain how best to position the babe, but like instinct, Claire brought the child to her exposed breast, in which her swelled nipple was already dribbling milk, and allowed the girl to latch on naturally.

It was as easy as breathing, and as natural as a heartbeat. The newest Princess of Broch Tuarach was a fantastic little “latchling,” as Geillis called her. When she was done with one breast, Claire gently maneuvered her towards her shoulder to coax a burp out of her. A healthy, loud squawk of a belch came out of the child, and she fastened the girl to her opposite breast.

“Ye’ve got this down pat, Claire,” Geillis said with delight. “I havena seen such a natural feeder in all my years of midwifing. It’s refreshin’, ken.”

Claire just nodded with the best fake smile she could muster, but she didn’t remove her eyes from her daughter’s slightly slanted ones. They were blue, but all babies are born with blue eyes; it takes a few months for a baby’s true eye color to emerge. Would she have her eyes, the color of finely aged whisky? Or her fathers, the deepest sea of blue?

For some reason, the thought of the girl having Jamie’s eyes frightened Claire. He’d left so abruptly, and didn’t say anything other than to announce the baby’s true gender.

The more she thought about it, the more angry she became. Her daughter must have picked up on her mother’s agitation, because she bit her nipple and sobbed, causing Claire to yelp in pain.

“Och!” Geillis reached out to take the princess from her, propping her up onto her shoulder for another burp. “Dinna fash, yer Royal Highness, yer Mam’s had quite a busy day!”

The child let out another solid belch before Geillis tucked her into her swath. The child fell asleep in the midwife’s arms. She looked up at her Queen, who was staring into the distance, her glass face set in rigid anger.

“He’ll come back, Claire,” Geillis said, which resulted in Claire’s eyes shooting up to look at her. “No matter what had happened in his life, his home is this castle. With you. And yer wean. Nothing will drive him sae mad wi’ feeling that he’d cast himself away.”

Claire took in Geillis’ words, but didn’t say anything.

“Ye must be ravenous!” Geillis declared, standing with the bairn still in her arms. “I’ll take yon wee lassie tae teh kitchens, see about finding us all some nourishments. Ye need tae keep up yer strength. And I’ll tell ye all about the foods ye’ll want tae eat now that yer a nursing mam later. Come along now, Yer Royal Highness!” Geillis looked down and smiled at the baby. “Let’s away out and find mammy some food!”

The child cooed sleepily and they were off, leaving Claire alone to her thoughts.

\---

Jamie still had not returned to the castle by the time supper was announced. Geillis offered to stay with Claire until he did, however long that would take. She was still adamant about Jamie’s habit of coming back no matter what happened to him, and Claire was still not convinced, but time would tell.

By the following morning, Claire had slept the best she could have in a long while. At first, she panicked, wondering if her entire pregnancy, and subsequent dramatic birth, was all a dream. But then she heard the babe start to cry and remembered that, while she slept well, she was still woken up every few hours for her nursing duties.

“Good mornin’, Yer Majesty!” Geillis announced cheerfully as she walked into the room, the wee princess tucked safety in her arms. “I expect ye slept as weel as ye could.”

“Yes,” Claire said, her voice rasped and scratchy, as if she’d been crying all night. Though, who’s to say she hadn’t been? Or, it could have been because that was the first word she had spoken since birthing her daughter, and Jamie’s sudden disappearance.

“Breakfast parriage is being prepared in the kitchens,” Geillis said, bringing the child towards Claire as she unbuttoned her nightgown for a feeding. “I can have some brought up fer ye when yer done.”

“Truthfully, I’m not all that hungry,” Claire said dismally as her daughter latched onto her exposed nipple for her morning breakfast.  _ Best get it over with now, _ she sighed internally. “Has there been any word of my husband, and his whereabouts?”

Geillis’ normally cheerful face slipped away, replaced with a cold look of sadness. “M’fraid, not, Milady. There was word that the guards were going to search fer him, but Princess Janet informed them that the King doesna wish tae be found at present.”

Claire huffed, but tried to rein in her emotions, lest she upset her newborn daughter.

There was a knock at the door, and Margot stepped in.

“Yer Majesty,” Margot said with a curtsy, “Princess Janet of Broch Tuarach is requestin’ tae see ye and the wee princess.”

It was a distraction that Claire warmly welcomed, despite Jenny being Jamie’s sister. “Please, send her in at once, Margot.”

A curtsy later, and Margot was gone, only to be replaced by Jenny, who initiated her own curtsy towards Claire.

“Geillis, will ye be a dear and leave us be? I’d like tae have a word alone wi’ my good sister.”

Both women looked at Claire, who nodded in approval. With another nod of approval, Geillis handed the baby to Jenny and left. Jenny came to sit down on the edge of the bed next to Claire.

“Margot wasna wrong,” Jenny said with much adoration. “She  _ is _ the bonniest lass in the land. She has her Da’s eyes too!”

Claire cringed at the thought. “Isn’t it too soon to tell?”

Jenny looked up and saw the anguish on Claire’s face. The older woman sighed. “Claire. He will come back. ‘Afore recent times, I wouldna thought my brother was capable of thinkin’ before actin’. But ye changed that. Any Fraser alive today kens a princess canna take the throne by law. It was started by the first King James after the Rising. And, as ye’ve no doubt learned, we dinna change our laws and traditions easily.”

“I’ve noticed,” Claire replied dryly, noticing how Jenny handled the baby. It caused her to smile. “You’re very good with her.”

Jenny blushed slightly. “Aye, I suppose.” When Claire gave her a look, she sighed relentlessly. “Ian and I have been tryin’.”

Claire’s smile widened. It had been a while since she had a reason to smile, as her chapped lips cracked and split. The pain was overcome by her joy for her sister in law.

“That’s great!” Claire said, feeling something for the first time. At the very least, Jenny and Ian weren’t bound by the same rules that her and Jamie were, so it didn’t matter what gender their children would be. “Have...well...have you two had any luck?”

“No’ yet, but we only just started, kind of.” Jenny paused for a moment before adding, “around yer eighth month of pregnancy.”

“Ah,” Claire replied. Jenny handed her daughter back to her, who continued to sleep as if nothing had happened.

There was another knock on the door. Claire beckoned and Murtagh, alongside Margot, stepped inside. Both addressed the royal family members respectfully.

“Yer Majesty,” Margot said timidly. “The local registrar representative is here. They’re askin’ if ye’ve chosen a name fer the bairn. They need the-”

“No,” Claire said flatly, her anger at Jamie’s absence flaring back up. “I will not named this child until properly until her father returns.”

“Yer Majesty,” Murtagh stepped between Margot and the bed. “I ken yer a bit miffed at Himself walkin’ out, but this is a matter of ut-”

“I don’t care!” Claire shouted, causing her daughter to shrill in alarm at the sudden audible intrusion. “Until His Majesty returns, this child shall remain nameless! And even then, I do not want the registrar to officiate anything, I want a priest! Your Princess shall be named when she is Christened! And that is final!”

Knowing they would not get anywhere, Murtagh and Margot bowed and curtsied as appropriate and left the room.

It wasn’t until the door closed behind them that Claire broke down. Jenny took the child from her arms, placed her in the nearby bassinet, and held her sister-in-law as she cried herself to sleep.


	5. But Then Again, We Have Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie comes home and explains to Claire where he’s been and why he left. But will it be enough to persuade his Queen that her marriage, and daughter, aren’t a mistake?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy World Outlander Day! Chapters 4 and 5 will be released together! YAY! While I didn’t intend to wait so long, today seems like a great day to give y’all a double release :D Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Two days.

It had taken two days for Jamie to track down everyone he needed to speak to. But it proved to be a fruitless endeavor.

Most of the members of His Court had not anticipated him showing up at their home residences, and as the decree to shut down all Royal business was still in effect, wouldn’t think to see him until long after it would have been lifted.

Jamie was certain the only reason none of the council members shut the door in his face was because he was the King. As Sovereign, when Himself knocks on your door and requests a personal audience with you, you oblige Him, the inconvenience to yourself being entirely irrelevant.

Every member he spoke to were shocked to hear that he did not have a son, but a daughter, and that vastly changed who would take the throne upon Jamie’s abdication, be it by death of natural causes or other means. Beforehand, it never occurred to them that modern medicine could be simply  _ wrong. _

The last thing Jamie wanted to discuss was how the medical professionals entrusted with their Queen’s prenatal health could have “messed up sp badly,” as if this were a case of congenital defectiveness, and not a matter of gender identification. The simple matter of truth was that, if Claire trusted Geillis Duncan and her team of midwives and doctors, then so did Jamie. And nothing, save for Claire’s word herself, could change his mind. Sadly though, the little men who ran His courts and government just could not understand why he had such “blind faith.”

His thoughts ran rampant at that.  _ Faith. _ His faith that his wife and Queen would be alright, no matter what happened. His faith in his God, his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, was an unseen yet unwavering force that had led him down the path he now tread upon. It got him through many hard times, he wondered as he looked back on his life. Such a force would not deter him. Now that it matter more than anything. Because the actions of these men, those within His government, held the fate of his daughter in their hands.

But in the end, they all gave Jamie the same answer, despite his desperate pleas. Not just as the King, but as a father worried for his children’s future. As bitter as he was with each disappointing “no,” he was gracious and courteous within their homes, accepted their heartfelt congratulations and sorrow for the “situation being a difficult one to broach” and he went on his way.

Two days of frustration and disappointment from His government and royal advisors. Two days of wanting nothing more than to punch or hit something very hard so his frustration could be in the form of pain. Something he could control.

But most of all, while his mission to seek justice for his daughter’s future was thwarted by the very council members whom he relied upon for advice and wisdom, his heart was still at Lallybroch Castle. Where his wife and Queen was most likely plotting regicide for his sudden disappearance. He knew she was going to be angry. And he hoped he could explain it in a way so that she would understand.

He knew he probably could’ve locked himself in his study and telephoned all the council members, but to him, this was more than just him securing his daughter’s future.

This was personal.

Had the law not been what it was, when Willie died, Jenny would be Queen. She could have been the heiress apparently given that she was two years older than he. And, in his mind, that was how it  _ should _ be. Jenny was so much like their mother, Ellen. Despite the differences in height, where Jamie was tall like his mother, and Jenny was on the average side of height like their father, both women exerted a force that would have scared away a massive, town-destroying hurricane! There should have never been a law among the Royals that states only men can rule Scotland. Women were just as,  _ if not more, _ capable of running the country as Sovereign. In fact, left to her own devices, he could very well see Claire be Queen of Scotland with no trouble at all.

The days of men ruling the world and women being nothing more than baby-making property were long gone. Jamie vowed that he would spend the rest of his life making it so his daughter could become queen. Or die trying.

“A’right, Alec,” Jamie slumped in the backseat of his car. “Take me home.”

Auld Alec started the engine and slowly jolted along the path back to Lallybroch. “Dinna fash, laddie. Ye’ll make them see reason. Or, if they dinna listen tae ye, Claire will nae doot have a word or two tae say about it.”

“Aye,” Jamie grumbled, not looking forward to what was expected to be a hard fight.

\---

The minute Jamie’s presence at her bed chamber was announced, Claire’s worry and anxiety over whether or not he’d ever came home bubbled into the anger she’d felt the day before.

She was seated in the bed alone, and Jamie could see a small bassinet beside her near the bed, but with enough room for her to get up and use the toilet without disturbing the bundle inside. Jamie’s heart lept in his chest; the fruit of his beautiful, beloved wife’s labor laid peacefully and unperturbed in that tiny cradle.

“I see you’ve finally decided to join us,” Claire said with a hard edge in her voice.

Jamie knew this was coming, and given all the energy he had exhausted trying to fix the situation, had none to spare to fight Claire. From where he stood, she had every right to be angry with him. Better to get the verbal lashing over with, then clean up the mess afterwards.

“Aye,” Jamie said, his voice reflecting just how tired he felt.

“Aye?” Claire repeated mockingly, coming to stand before him,  _ “Aye?! _ You’ve been gone for two bloody days and THAT’S all you have to say to me?! _ ” _

“I ken I’m no’ undeserving of yer harsh tongue, Claire,” Jamie tried to reach out for her hand, but she whipped back and away from him so fast, he almost got dizzy. “Ye’ve a right tae be angry wi’ me. I tend tae get my mind wrapped up when I’ve a task at hand. And this was verra important. If yer not so angry wi’ me tae let me explain.”

Claire folded her arms across the chest, milk-heavy breasts perched just above them. Jamie thought for just a second that that position could  _ not  _ be comfortable, but let it go almost as soon as he thought it.

“I haven’t  _ stopped  _ being angry,” Claire bit through clenched teeth, glaring daggers at him, as if she hoped he would spontaneously combust where he stood. “So you might as well explain yourself. But keep your voice down. The baby’s finally asleep after Geillie, Margot and I spent the last three hours trying to calm her down.”

Jamie wanted to cry; it should have been  _ him _ helping Claire with  _ their  _ child, not the midwife and her private secretary, but he did his best not to dwell on what had already transpired, and explained his whereabouts over the last two days.

Slowly, but surely, as he explained what each council member had said to him, Claire’s hardened, angry expression softened into one of surprise and remorse. In her natural state of mind when left alone, she tended to be slightly pessimistic. In the relatively short amount of time that Claire had known Jamie, back when he was Prince Broch Tuarach, he had never given her any indication that he would just up and abandon her. For  _ any  _ reason. He would not have fought for her to become his Queen, changing the laws and causing so much strife between his family and the Royal Courts, if he did not love her enough to stay.

The simple fact remained that, the moment he saw that he had a daughter, and not a son, meant he knew exactly what her future would be like, being the first born to the King of Scotland. His first action upon learning this knowledge, wasn’t to run away and hide in shame, but to act on it, so that his daughter, and future children or grandchildren he may have, would not suffer undesirable fates under the law. He knew he had to act on it  _ immediately. _ Jamie was right; when he set himself onto a mission, nothing else mattered. And sometimes, that meant feelings of others could become casualties.

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire came forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, her head resting comfortable in the hollow space of his chest. His heart was still kind of fast from his wild gesturing and hurried words of explanation, but it soothed her ire as it slowed to a more normal rate. “I’m sorry, I have no right to be angry.”

“Not true, Sassenach,” Jamie countered, slipping a finger under her chin to bring her eyes up to look at his. “Ye canna read minds. How were ye supposed tae know where I was? Especially when I didna teel anyone, save fer Alec, who was wi’ me the whole time. Christ, Claire, if anyone should be sorry, it’s  _ me. _ And I am. Fer runnin’ out like that.”

“But you were right to,” Claire said hushly. “Your first action as a brand new father was to save our daughter from the fate of not being able to rule her country one day. It isn’t fair that she can’t because she’s a girl. And you knew that. You’re the best man I could’ve ever chosen to father my child, Jamie. Never forget that.”

Jamie had a feeling that this was how Claire truly felt about him, but to hear it come directly from her lips brought tears to his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lips, warm and supple, praying God didn’t take her away from him anytime soon.

“Yer better than I deserve, Sassenach,” Jamie said with soft emotion.

“Maybe so,” Claire said, “but I chose you as much as you chose me. But enough about that. I believe there’s a wee someone who would like to meet you.”

Giddiness returned to Jamie’s body as Claire walked to the bassinet and retrieved the small pink bundle of its charge, bringing it over towards Jamie.

Besides her mother, Jamie thought the lass was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. She was  _ so  _ wee that her head almost didn’t fit in the palm of her hand. Her ears stuck out a little bit. She didn’t have any lashes yet, but her eyes were slanted, just like his. What little hair was peeking out of her wee cap was a shock of bright red, a mix of copper and auburn, also just like his.

“Sassenach,” Jamie breathed, his voice almost inaudible over the emotions catching in his throat. “She so beautiful.”

“She’s look so much like you,” Claire had said, who had come to stand beside him. “So far, she’s been a champion eater, a master at soiling nappies, and a rather good sleeper. Geillis and I both have had to wake her up every few hours for her feedings.”

“Can’t ye just let her sleep?” Jamie asked, and Claire almost laughed at the innocent ignorance on his face.

“No unfortunately,” Claire sighed, “a newborn eating every two to three hours isn’t a matter of being hungry, well...not intentionally...it’s just that...a baby  _ has  _ to eat that much or they’ll die. They need the nourishment.”

“Ahh,” Jamie surmised, turning his attention back to his little girl. Then a thought struck him. “Her name...what did ye name her?”

Claire smiled. “Nothing.” When Jamie looked at her with reproach, she went on saying, “I haven’t named her yet. I was waiting for you to come home first. I...I figured this is something we should do together. As her parents.”

Jamie smiled back, and immediately knew.

**IT’S** **_HER_ ** **ROYAL HIGHNESS, THANK YOU! PRINCESS FAITH JOCASTA CAITRIONA FRASER OF BROCH TUARACH CHRISTENED IN LAVISH CEREMONY AT OUR ROYAL LADY OF DIVINITY ABBEY**


	6. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scottish Sovereigns receive some bad news but are determined not to let it dissuade them. Good thing Jenny has some good news to counter it.

In Claire and Jamie’s opinion, Faith was _the_ perfect first born child.

The young princess was good at almost everything babies were known for doing in the first few months of their life. She nursed like a champion, slept at the right moments, and, yes, did quite a spectacular job at going through all the sheets and nappies the young royal parents were gifted before her birth. Much to Jamie’s dismay.

The Scottish Sovereigns had a routine worked out at night. When it was time for one of Faith’s many overnight feedings, Jamie would get out of bed and bring the wee lassie to her mother. The King was adamant that nobody touched the princess at night; so much so, that it was made an official royal decree.

“Betwix the hours o’ nine o’clock P.M. and six o’clock A.M., nae a soul shall lay a hand on Her Royal Highness Princess Faith,” he had announced to the entirety of Lallybroch Castle’s staff.

Naturally, being King, nobody questioned him. Though, he kind of wish they had. For once.

“I read somewhere that it’s important fer the first few months o’ a bairn’s life that they’re only handled by their mother and father as much as possible. So they ken who they are, aye?” Jamie had told Claire during one of those nightly feedings, while trying his hardest to stifle a deep yawn.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, Jamie,” Claire had said through her own yawn, glancing down at Faith while she nursed. “Though, I won’t lie. I’m looking forward to the day where I’m more than just a milkcow in her eyes.”

Jamie chuckled lightly at that. “Dinna fash, Sassenach. If ye were a cow, ye’d be the bonniest one in all the land.”

“Oh, gee, thanks, my _King,_ ” Claire mocked with a smirk. Faith unlatched herself from Claire’s bared breast. She handed the wean to Jamie for burping, who already had a cloth draped across his shoulder.

“That’s a good lass, aye?” Jamie cooed as he patted the little girl on the back until she coughed up a bubbly, juicy belch that echoed off the walls. “Aye, there we are! Healthy bellies always lead tae good things.”

“Yes, like the changing of nappies. Your favorite activity, if I remember correctly.” Claire squinted at him suspiciously, in which the smile disappeared from Jamie’s face. She laughed as she exposed her other breast. She tended to remove her satin sleeping top when nursing, but tonight she opted only to have it unbuttoned rather than fully removed. Jamie handed Faith back to her once she was ready.

“Alright, are you ready for the other one, lovey? Yes, that’s right. On you go! That's my good girl.” She gently turned the infant around so she was facing the newly exposed breast and Faith latched on immediately. Jamie sat down next to her and observed with awed fascination. 

“She’s a braw eater, is she no’?” Jamie said, softly stroking the infant’s wee hand. Faith wrapped a wee grip around Jamie’s pinky finger, causing him to almost start crying. “I’ll never get tired o’ this. _Mo ghruag ruaidh._ ”

Claire looked at him and smiled sincerely. “My red haired lass.”

“Aye,” Jamie said, and pressed a soft kiss to his Queen’s temple.

\---

_Lallybroch Castle_   
_Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser_   
_1 October 1971_

Faith proved to be rather helpful in the royal gardens. Well, _she_ thought she was being helpful, with her squeals of delight from her pram every time Claire pulled a weed or planted a new herb or flower. But Claire didn’t mind; the sun was shining on a rare warm, sunny day at the dawn of October. The Queen was determined to soak it all up before the first frost hit Lallybroch Castle.

“Darling, you should not shout like that. It’s un-princess-like!” Claire tried to reason with the almost-one-month-old, but the gummy-smile on her daughter's chubby little face kept the Queen from being truly upset. 

“Oh, alright, you can yell at _these_ blooms. Maybe you can encourage them to grow faster.” She booped the lass on the nose, causing a smudge of dirt to be left behind. This caused Claire to laugh, especially when Faith tried to wriggle her nose to get it off. “At least you’ll be earning your bath tonight. Mistress Annette will take pleasure in that.”

Claire abandoned the hope of getting any actual gardening done and her and Faith continued to play together. She would present the princess with dirt from her hands so Faith could massage the grubby mess with her chubby little fingers. Faith found this activity to be quite amusing. When Claire brought a flower near her face for her to admire, the babe would sneeze in the most adorable way, then look at her mother with an astonished _‘what in the world did I just do?!’_ glance. In that moment, she wished Jamie was there with them rather than being cooped up in his study going over notes for the Scottish parliament session held last weekend.

It brought the young Queen back to her days as a meager floral shop owner, and she shivered at the thought of a toddler-aged Faith tearing up what little plants she had left alive before she met Jamie. But she was the Queen of Scotland now; if she wanted more flowers, or different herbs and blooms, she could have them in her possession, ready to plant, by suppertime if she commanded it. Nothing Faith could do in the gardens, now or in the future, would be a detriment to its flourishment.

“Yer Majesty! Come quick!” Claire heard Margot scampering through the gardens like her heels were set ablaze. She quickly curtsied before Claire and attempted to catch her breath. Claire had half a mind to order her private secretary to wear running sneakers from now on if she was going to sprint all over the castle to get to her.

“What’s the matter, Margot?” Claire said with concern edging her voice. “Has the King taken ill?”

“Nae, Madam, but he’s having a right awful fit! Cursin’ and spewin’ all kinds o’ vitriol! Something’s amiss fer sure! He’s requestin’ yer presence in his study, and he’s insisting that Yer Royal Highness goes wi’ Annette!”

_That can’t be good,_ Claire thought. Jamie never wasted an opportunity to see and interact with Faith, even when he was working. Sometimes, when she didn’t want to take a nap, he would balance and bounce her on his shoulder or knee while in his study or doing things around the castle. So, if he was demanding to see her, and only her, not as his wife, but as Queen Broch Tuarach, then it was likely court business.

And if it was court business…

Claire’s blood ran cold for a moment as she dusted herself and Faith of dirt and pollen, summoned Faith’s nanny, Annette, to take custody of her, then followed Margot to Jamie’s study.

“Yer Majesty?” said Margot after knocking softly. Jamie ushered her just inside the door, and she curtsied before him. “The Queen is here.”

“Thank ye Margot,” Claire heard Jamie said as the scrape of his chair echoed slightly. Whatever vitriol he had been spatting before she arrived had clearly subsided, but she could hear the uneasy strain in his voice.

Margot curtsied again as Claire walked into the study. The young woman had just enough time to shut the doors behind her before Jamie surprised his bride by taking her into his arms and bruising her lips with a fervent kiss.

_“Mo nighean donn,”_ Jamie breathed, his voice heavy with what _felt_ like lust. She knew it was anything but, however she also knew her husband. Sex was the best way he rid himself of unwanted tension.

“Your servant, Your Majesty,” Claire cooed in jest, completing the mocking ensemble with a low curtsy of her own. She hoped her attempt to lighten the melancholy in the room would soothe him.

“Away wi’ ye, Sassenach,” Jamie laughed, but only for a moment. Claire could see her attempt had failed, the hardened-steel disposition coming over his eyes. Down to business now.

“What’s wrong, Jamie? Margot summoned me like the castle was on fire.”

Claire only asked out of courtesy, but she knew. She knew what Jamie had to say was bad news. They’d been waiting for this moment since the day Faith was born. The news that would determine her fate.

Jamie sat back down at his desk, took a deep breath, then looked her directly in the eyes.

The arrested shake of his head told her more than words ever could.

Claire’s lungs deflated in defeat.

“Bloody fucking hell,” she uttered. She walked over towards the ‘dram table’ as Jamie called it, and poured them both a healthy tumbler of whisky. Sniffing it, she realized it was the nicer stuff. Though, that was really a misnomer; the King of Scotland always had good whisky. Even if Jamie had preferred it, no one in Scotland would allow Himself to drink anything but good whisky. But as Claire came to learn in her short time as royalty, there was good whisky. And then, there was the kind of whisky that was only good for washing away the taste of bad news.

If only that were possible.

“What do we do now?” Claire said, handing him his dram. To her surprise, he drained the entire four fingers of it in one large gulp. She held her tongue though.

“I willna put the pressure on you tae have a son, Sassenach,” Jamie said. “It isna right, and it isna fair. Fer now...I suggest we just raise Faith, and any other daughters we may have after her, as if she were tae one day be Queen.”

He got up to pour himself another large dram, and he drained that one too in the space of two heartbeats. _This was going to be a day,_ Claire thought dismally.

“I willna give this up,” Jamie declared, turning around to face her, shoulders set and face stoned with determination. “We canna rightly predict what children we’ll have, if any, ‘afore they’re born. Until now, until...me...a male heir has always been the firstborn. But no.” He took a deep, steadying breath before continuing, “we could have a hundred daughters after Faith, and it wouldna make a difference. One of them _will_ be Queen. Even if I have tae die or sell my soul tae the devil himself tae make it so.”

“So...” Claire took a deep breath of her own, ignoring his vow of damnation, “what? We just raise and educate Faith as if she will be Queen? No matter what the court says?”

“Aye,” Jamie said, stepping closer to take her into his arms. He rested his chin atop her head. “There no’ giving us a choice, Claire. These rigid men willna be bent. We have tae produce a male heir fer our bloodline tae success us as Sovereign. However...I’m holdin’ out on convincing the court tae let this law go. I dinna want tae use my powers as King just yet. As my father once said… _‘the council is there to give advice to the Sovereign, and to ensure he or she does not abuse their God-annointed powers as such. But, as King, ye are entitled tae denounce their decisions, if ye find the council’s advise tae be unsound, in regards tae the Scottish people. Ye safeguard Her land, and Her people. It ‘tis yer duty tae always uphold that sacred bond betwix’ ye and Scotland.’_ I dinna want tae make a habit of overridin’ the decisions o’ the council, because at that point, why bother havin’ ‘em?”

“I can understand that,” Claire said, resting her head just above Jamie’s heart. The beat beneath her ear was slow and calm, steady like a warm, running bath. But she knew a storm thundered ravenous within him, no matter how fast or slow his heartbeat was.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie lifted his head, and hers, to kiss her forehead. His lips were just as warm as his chest, and she smiled at the comforting feeling. “All will be well.”

“Come Hell or high water,” Claire replied with the play of smirk on her own lips.

\---

_Christmas Eve_  
 _24 December 1971_ _  
5:34pm Local Time_

Lallybroch Castle was decorated in such wondrous splendor for the holiday season that, for a split second, Claire was wondering if she still belonged there. She spent more Christmases in her lifetime either at the boarding schools with what might have passed as ‘friends’ in those days, or alone with her plants and herbs. She’d never grown up with a family large enough to justify such decorations, and while her Uncle Lamb would always send her a gift for Christmas, that was the gist of her celebrations. That, and drinking. Lots of drinking and lingering hangovers.

But here, at Lallybroch, Christmas was a celebration that started a week before and lasted well into Hogmanay. It was the one time of year where every living member of the Royal Family would gather, no matter their status or title. If they were related by blood or marriage, they would be visiting and celebrating as if they were the King or Queen themselves. Jamie and Claire’s throne room was cleared out of any royal affects and replaced with a Christmas tree that touched the ancient vaulted ceiling. It took sixteen people to chop down, prepare, and bring inside the castle, several more in addition to that to set up and stabilize it, and then-

“It’s Clan Fraser tradition that each member o’ the family helps decorate the tree, Sassenach,” Jamie was explaining while some of his and Jenny’s younger cousins were worming their way around the adults to hang homemade ornaments. “Even if ye only hang one ornament, yer considered a participant.”

“Jamie and Willie used tae make a contest out o’ it,” Jenny said from behind them with an older-looking ornament in each hand, and she reached out to pluck them onto the tree at her height. “Which one o’ them could hang the most. Da would have extra treats fer the winner. The year ‘afore Willie died, I think he won.”

“Nae, that year was the year I finally won, and ye ken it weel,” Jamie mused, and Jenny laughed, knowing she was just trying to get his goat. Claire smiled, trying to imagine a short, curly red-headed little boy trying to step all over his big brother to hang more ornaments than him.

It was nice that the two of them could speak of their late brother with such love and admiration, as if he was still alive. It brought tears to her eyes to even think about her Uncle Lamb. Jamie knew this, and tried his best not to bring up the sore subject. All he could do, in his mind, was make sure his Queen knew she had family now. And plenty of it.

Claire reached out and hung a brand new, handmade ornament shaped like a spinning top. It read "Faith's 1st Christmas 1971." Jamie carved it and Claire painted it. Their first Christmas present for their firstborn child. Made with love. She admired it for a moment before familiar noises sounded behind her.

“Aaaaaand here’s Mummy and Daddy!” An edlerly woman’s voice called from behind. Turning around, The King and Queen saw Annette holding Faith like an incoming airplane. The wee princess was making slobbering noises, as if she actually _was_ an airplane, and Jamie started mimicking a panicked traveler about to be hit by said plane.

“There’s our little angel!” Claire explained as Faith landed safely in Jamie’s arms, giggling the whole time.

“ _Mo leanaban gaoil,_ ” Jamie smiled, lifting Faith into the air a few times. “ _A chuisle._ ”

“Da!”

The King damn near dropped her as the word slipped right out of her mouth, with her large, hopeful blue eyes, so much like her father’s, boring widely into his own.

“Did she just-”

“She did!” Claire turned around to face the family. “Faith just said her first word!”

This was met with thunderous applause and cheer, then Jamie commanded everyone to be quiet. He leaned into Faith’s face and said, “what was that, _a leannan?_ What did ye say?”

Faith studied her father’s face with intense scrutiny, then smiled her wide, gummy smile before saying, “Da! Da Da Da Dadadadadada DADA!”

The crowd around them ooh’d and ahh’d, cooed and exclaimed joyous praise for the little princess. Naturally, Jamie and Claire were tearing up at the sight, and sound, of their daughter speaking her first word. Jamie hugged the little girl close into his chest and kissed her on the temple, so much so that Claire could see the bounding movements of his heart against Faith's head.

Jenny and Ian came around to stand beside them, big smiles on their faces too.

“Weel, I hope ours will be that smart some day,” Jenny said nonchalantly. But it caused Jamie to snap out of his fatherly reverie for a moment.

_“Yours?”_ He asked incredulously, Claire looking between her brother and sister in law in suspended excitement.

Ian placed a large hand across where Jenny’s navel lay, and Jenny laid her own on top of it.

“We’re expectin’ a bairn ourselves!” Ian announced to the room. “The princess is due September next year!”

The reception of this elated news was much louder than the one Faith had received. Claire and Jenny exchanged tight hugs, and Jamie, while still holding a now-screeching Faith, clapped Ian on the back of the shoulder. Faith looked as though she was glad everyone else was shouting and yelling so she could too without anyone telling her to be quiet. She really liked being loud.

“I ken it’s already Christmas and Hogmanay,” Jamie announced to the crowd, “but this year, the celebrations will be dedicated tae Princess Broch Tuarach, Prince Ian, and their new bairn!”

Claire took Faith from Jamie’s arms while he went to go pour everyone a dram (except Jenny, of course, as he poured her a glass of chilled orange juice) to toast their honor. Claire couldn’t help but look down at her daughter, currently trying to eat her own fist, and smiled at the thought of her having something she never did.

A cousin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mo leanaban gaoil - my darling babe  
> a chuisle - my heart's blood


	7. An Uncertain Royal Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Royal Family celebrates Faith’s first birthday. When Jenny goes into labor the day after the party, the birth of this child is at risk of putting Faith's future in jeopardy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ken it’s been 87,000 years since I last updated, and from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate everyone being patient with me. It’s been a verra long month this week and I’m still reeling. But please, ignore my meloncholy. Enjoy! And let me know what you think!

__

_Lallybroch Castle_ _  
__Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser_ _  
__4 September 1972_

Faith’s first year of life was mostly quiet. Well, as quiet as an infant could be. Her royal parents, by some miracle, managed to evenly divide their time between being active in their raising of her, without relying too heavily on nannies (Jamie was adamant about Faith knowing her parents better than any nanny they could throw at her; given his own childhood, Claire didn’t blame him), and carrying out their duties as King and Queen of Scotland. 

Jamie had tried one more time during that year to convince the royal courts to overturn the law that forbade Faith from one day inheriting her birthright as Queen, but was shot down again. Claire reminded him of his plan.

“It’s like you said. We should focus on raising her to _be_ Queen one day. When the time is right, you can decide whether to honor the courts’ ruling or defy it yourself. But right now, a certain little princess needs her bath, and she’s been saying _‘dada’_ all day long.”

As he placed his wee lassie into the prepared bath, Jamie sometimes couldn’t believe that Claire was his wife, the Queen of Scotland, and the mother of his child. He believed in fate with all his being. It was fate that had led him to her wee floral shop all that time ago. Fate that allowed him to take Princess Geneva on a date as his potential future Queen and inadvertently explore other options, all in the form of finding her some flowers for his sister to mail.

Because of him, Claire now lived a life where she no longer had to worry about making ends meet. Gone are the days where she would wonder if she could afford to pay her landlord, or put food on her table. Dead are the times where she had to fight and struggle just to be self-sufficient. Sure, Claire had made it very clear to him that she _was_ such, and her own ferocious tenacity kept her alive and surviving. But why should she just _have_ to survive?

He was grateful to be able to provide for her. Even if he wasn’t the King. And she had made Scotland better by being her Queen.

A large splash of soapy bathwater hit him in the face, and Faith giggled as Jamie scrubbed at his face. He was thankful in that moment to be shirtless.

“Ach, two can play at that game, _a leannan,_ ” Jamie said to the princess mischievously, and he splashed water directly into her face.

The bubbly water got into Faith’s eyes, and she started crying.

“Och! _A ghràidh!_ I am so sorry,” Jamie rushed Faith out of the bath, still completely naked, soaking wet and freezing cold, over towards the sink, where he turned on the faucet to dribble warm, clean water across her eyes. Holding her at this strange angle felt awkward, and she was slightly slippery in his grasp, but it wasn’t long before Faith calmed down. Jamie grabbed a few towels and bundled her into them, making her look like a soft, pink burrito.

He walked over towards the rocking chair and ottoman in the far corner of the nursery and sat down. Faith had wriggled out of the towels a bit and her head was laying flat against her father’s bare chest. Jamie looked down and noticed she had an awestruck expression on her face. He smiled.

“Can ye hear it, _a leannan?_ ” Jamie whispered to the crown of her head. “That’s my heartbeat.”

He took his free hand and laid it gently against the opposite side of her head, applying light pressure into his chest, as if to help Faith hear his heart better.

“Ye ken what that is, a nighean?” He kissed the top of her head and smiled wider. _“Mo ghaol dhut, a chuisle.”_

Faith apparently found the soft thrum of Jamie’s heart to be the perfect lullaby, because it wasn’t long before she was fast asleep in his arms.

And that’s how Claire found them over an hour later. Jamie asleep with their daughter passed out peacefully against his chest, him still shirtless and her still naked under the towels.

“Oh I wish cameras weren’t so loud and flashy,” the Queen said to herself, “I would take a picture.”

She didn’t want to wake either of them, but had no choice as she noticed that Faith, diaperless, had pooped in the towels below Jamie’s hand, which caused the mess to run down her father’s torso.

\---

_12 September 1972_ _  
__Lallybroch Castle Great Hall_ _  
__2:43pm Local Time_

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY FAITH!”

The crowd gathered in the great hall of Lallybroch Castle was decorated to the nines. Pink and gold streamers littered every walking surface of the walls, presents were stacked almost as high as the ceiling, and the central point of Faith’s first birthday party had everyone focused on the King and Queen surrounding their little girl, who was dressed in a festive party dress with a colorful bib on. She had a rather large cake for her to smash into for her size.

“Go on, darling!” Claire exclaimed as photographers were snapping pictures as fast as their 1970s technology cameras would allow them.

“Give it a good thrack, Faith!” Jamie encouraged.

“Let her figure it out, _bràthair,_ ” a very pregnant Jenny mused, rolling her eyes. Ian was standing behind her with his hands wrapped around the fleshy shell encasing for their unborn child, both of them displaying wide smiles on their faces.

It didn’t take long for Faith to figure out the logistics of it. She made the mistake of touching the thick icing on the cake, and when she couldn’t shake it off (much to everyone’s delight) she brought the sticky treat to her mouth. Ooh’s and Ahh’s erupted as Faith’s eyes widened at the delicious confectionary, and she dug into the cake with both hands like someone was trying to steal it! Cheers flared up from her audience, and her parents showered her with kisses and cooing gestures of praise.

Lunch and birthday cake were served while Faith entertained herself with the messy concoction of cake, icing and sprinkles.

It took the ruling Fraser family a good hour to get through all the presents as Claire insisted they let Faith open them all herself, with a bit of help from her Da here and there. _“It’ll help her build fine motor skills,”_ Claire had told Jamie, and while the King couldn’t disagree with her, it took most of his patience to endure not ripping them all open for his daughter. She was the princess, and Scotland’s future Queen, damn his eyes, and she shouldn’t _have_ to do it all herself!

But the sight of pure joy on his daughter’s face eased his restlessness. By the time presents were opened, her new favorite toys were removed from their packaging to allow for instant play, and the guests had all given Jamie and Claire their well-wishes as the parents of a now-one-year-old, Faith was exhausted and fussed herself into a fit until she was placed in her crib for a nap.

That gave Jamie and Claire a chance to breathe without dozens of people surrounding them. Everyone slept well that night. Including Faith, who for the first time in her little life, slept through the whole night without needing so much as a nappy change.

\---

_13 September 1972_   
_Lallybroch Castle_   
_Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser_   
_8:32pm Local Time_

The day had been a stress-filled once since the moment Jamie and Claire woke up. Neither barely had any time to celebrate yet another one of Faith’s milestones of sleeping through the night as news broke by way of Murtagh that Jenny had gone into active labor. Faith’s first cousin was about to be born!

Ian had rung the castle and instructed that Jenny did not want anyone near their home at Beaufort Castle until at least 48 hours after their child was born.

“I can understand why,” Claire had reassured Jamie, who was pacing his study with Faith in his arms. She had contented herself to playing with Jamie’s ponytail, which had grown to where it almost touched his shoulderblades. “It’ll give Jenny a chance to form a bond with the little one, also gives them some peace to figure out breastfeeding. I know she was very adamant about nursing exclusively.”

“Aye, well,” Jamie huffed, “woulda been better fer her and the bairn if she was birthing it here, at Lallybroch. We have better facilities tae accommodate the Princess. She didna have tae stay at Beaufort.”

Claire just rolled her eyes, but came to stand in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her middle, kissing the side of her head. “Beaufort Castle is her rightful home, and it’s the will and pleasure of the Duke and Duchess of Glasgow to have their baby there. Try to be more understanding, Jamie. All will be well.”

Jamie was about to give Claire an annoyed look, but he grimaced in pain as Faith pulled at his hair with a vigor he had not been expecting.

“Careful now, _a chuisle,_ ” Jamie cooed, trying to turn his scorned face into one of endearment. “Ye keep that up, I’ll be bald ‘afore yer two!”

“Well, can’t have that, now can we?” Claire plucked their daughter from his arms, to which Faith proceeded to start pulling on her mother’s hair, causing the Queen to yelp. Jamie laughed, much to Claire’s dismay.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie mused with a most mischievous grin smeared across his face, “I’ll ensure ye have the finest wig maker in all of Scotland.”

“Ha bloody ha,” Claire huffed. Faith giggled, which caused all the tension in the room to melt away in an instant.

A knock came at the door of Jamie’s study.

“Aye?” Jamie called out. Murtagh and Margot swiftly entered and revered themselves to their King and Queen.

“It 'tis my pleasure tae announce that at about seven this evenin’, Princess Janet Fraser Murray of Broch Tuarach, the Duchess of Glasgow, and her husband, Prince Ian, Duke of Glasgow, welcomed a healthy-lunged bairn of six pounds and thirteen ounces intae the world.” Murtagh, to Claire's surprise, was smiling as he spoke.

“That’s wonderful!” Claire exclaimed. She looked down at Faith. “Did you hear that, Faithie? You have a new cousin!”

“Aye, ‘tis a most exciting day indeed!” Margot said with delight, offering to take Faith from Claire. She was bouncing the child in her arms as she went on, “Scotland has a new prince!”

That stopped Jamie and Claire dead in their tracks. 

“Prince, ye say?” Jamie asked with trepidation.

“Aye,” Margot said. “The Duke and Duchess of Glasgow have bore a son!”

Jamie looked up at Murtagh, who had a dour expression on his face.

Margot was brilliant at many things, but reading the room wasn’t her strongest skill. “Is that no’ good news, Yer Majesties?”

She wasn't answered right away. Claire stepped forward. “Margot, would you be so kind as to find Mistress Annette to take Princess Faith please? I think the King, Lord Murtagh and I need to have a talk.”

Margot curtsied. “As ye say, Yer Majesty.” And with that, she took a firmer hold on Faith and left the King’s study, shutting the wide double doors behind her.

Claire turned around to face her husband and godfather. “This definitely isn’t good.”

“I think that would be an understatement, Sassenach,” Jamie grumbled. He walked over towards the table where the whisky sat on its perch, and poured a dram for each of them, and passed them around.

“Aye, it ‘tisna,” Murtagh sighed, taking a good sized drink and settling himself into one of the armchairs. “If Jenny and Ian declare it so-”

“This newborn prince could take the throne someday, and we wouldna be able tae stop him.” Jamie finished. “Wouldna matter than the child isna ours. He’s a royal, and the first son born after I succeeded my father as King. Under current law, the lad is entitled tae surpass his cousin, and any female cousin born tae us after Faith, as the future King of Scotland.”

“I swear, this become more and more unfair the longer this goes on,” Claire said with renewed agitation. “Jamie, are you sure you don’t want to supersede the Court’s decision?”

A pregnant pause followed Claire’s question. Jamie sat down at his desk and drained his dram in one swift swallow. He took a deep, steadying breath.

“I dinna want tae act on impulse. Jenny and Ian still have the right to refuse to allow their children to rule. Now, when their son becomes of age, unless the law is changed, he can act upon his right and take the throne at he pleases. But until then, and until the law can be altered, his parents will decide. Besides...I dinna ken about ye, Claire, but there's always the chance we could still bore a son of our own.”

Everyone chewed on that bit of knowledge for a moment, the deafening silence enveloping them like a cold, dark cloud. Claire didn't bother acknowledging Jamie's last comment. While it was no secret that her and Jamie were adamant about giving Faith siblings, she didn't want to do it just to satisfy the Fraser lineage.

Claire was once again feeling like she did the moment she learned Faith was, well...Faith. Despite all the power she held as Queen of Scotland, there was nothing she could do in that moment to ensure her daughter inherited what she, and Jamie, believed was rightfully hers.

Jamie remained aloof for the rest of the night, climbing into bed next to his wife without even pulling out the wee Bible he read from before sleeping. Claire secretly hoped that once they went to Beaufort Castle to meet their new nephew, it would change his demeanor.

For now, like Themselves, she turned out her nightstand light and put the issue to bed.


	8. My Will Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good news is bestowed upon Clan Fraser, and it revitalizes the King’s attempts to thwart the long-dead misogynistic laws that have plagued the Scottish Courts since their inception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIIIIIIIII IM BAAAAAAAAAACK! :D  
> Enjoy not one, not two, but THREE installments today! ^_^ y'all deserve it

_Lallybroch Castle_   
_Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser_ _  
_ 19 January 1973

It was just going to be another day for Queen Broch Tuarach.

She rose with the lark, knowing Jamie was going to be up beforehand in preparation to head out for whatever royal duties took him away from the castle that day. It was always something different nowadays: meeting with the prime minister about country goings ons, investors with the various charity organizations him and Claire were patrons of, and today, sitting down with the Queen of Wales to discuss growing tensions between them and Spain (a disreputable trade deal that went sour is all Claire was told.)

She wanted to ensure they had their morning porridge together as a family, with Faith happily slopping out of her own wee bowl of the mushed up grains, milk, strawberries and honey. Her Majesty had no royal engagements outside the castle today, but there were some telephone appointments that morning with proprietors of local civil rights activists groups. She had made these so she could spend time at home with Faith while the King was away.

After Jamie departed Lallybroch, Jenny came over with her son, while Ian oversaw the recently initiated renovations at Beaufort Castle. Claire and Jamie were thrilled when Jenny and Ian had told them about this; Beaufort Castle hadn’t been inhabited since the days of the Rising of ‘45 and was in desperate need or either repair or a full rebuild. Seeing as it was a piece royal property, tearing the aging castle down permanently was illegal, no matter what the King said. It was also the reason why Jamie was so uptight about his sister giving birth there.

Princess Faith and her cousin, Prince James (or “Wee Jamie” as he was called since he was named after his uncle) contented themselves to sharing toys and frolicking on castle grounds with their respective nannies chasing after them. It was Claire’s greatest hope that Faith grew up enjoying something she wasn’t afforded in her youth: extended family. 

Claire and Jenny talked pleasantries for a while. Claire asked about the renovations, Jenny inquired as to how Faith was doing now that she was sleeping through the night more or less consistently (her and Jamie had had a scare a few weeks prior where Faith woke up around 2am with a really high fever, but with some medicine it went away in a few days with no repercussions). Jenny asked for some advice on weening Wee Jamie off the breast and introducing solids, and Claire advised her to let the lad do it on his own. _He’ll let you know when he’s ready, trust me,_ Claire had said.

By the afternoon, Jamie was home, much to “his lassies” delight. While his royal duties were out of the way outside the castle, he still had things to do in his study. But this was why he had insisted on a “play corner” furnished in his office. Faith could safety entertain herself while being under her father’s watchful eye. This did two things: it allowed the King to spend more time with his daughter, and it gave Claire a bit of a break. Most Queens in Scotland’s royal history spent their days being pampered and doing whatever they wanted, leaving their children to the care of nannies and nurses. But Claire absolutely refused to be a secondhand parent. She demanded that she be the one who did the primary maternal raising of their daughter. This was something she was thankful to have Jamie’s complete support on. Who would dare to blame him, given his own upbringing?

Yes, it was just another normal day for Queen Broch Tuarach. However, there was something that had been internally bothering her throughout the day. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and yet held all the familiarity as if she were looking straight into a mirror.

This...feeling...went on bugging her for at least a week before she finally decided to do something about it.

Another week went by before she approached her husband about it.

“Darling?” Claire asked as she approached Jamie’s desk. He had his nose buried in several stacks of papers, no doubt assessing their contents at the last possible minute.

“What is it, Sassenach?” Jamie inquired, but didn’t look up. His ruddy brows were furrowed to the point where the crease between them was very deep. “As ye can see, I’m currently being conquered in the fierce yet daunting Battle of the Forms.”

Claire rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at a joke, then said, “you’re going to be a father, Jamie.”

Jamie looked up at this, quirked an eyebrow at her, then smirked. “Ye ken it’s a wee bit late tae announce that, Sassenach.” He pointed towards a sleeping Faith, who had hilariously passed out among the hoard of toys and stuffed animals around her. “Though, thank ye fer reaffirming me as her father.”

Claire huffed a breath audibly, but the smirk on her face was barely contained. “I’m pregnant again, you most unfunny, incorrigible Scot.”

That caused whatever exciting war he was waging with his paperwork to instantly become tedious and mundane. His eyes widened at her, then a slow smile spread across his face.

“Aye? Ye are?!” Jamie stood up and walked towards Claire, who just nodded, the smirk growing into a contagious smile. “This...is... _wonderful news!_ ”

The act of the King lifting his wife into the air and swinging her around, laughing with joy all the while, woke a very unamused princess in the corner. Jamie reached out for the wee girl, cooing at her in the Gàidhlig, unable to stop smiling.

“Ye canna see now, _a ghràidh,_ ” Jamie said softly, placing a hand over Claire’s still flat abdomen. “But ye’re gonna have a wee brother or sister soon! It’s cookin’ fine and weel in yer Mam’s belly.”

Faith reached out for Claire, and the Queen took her into her arms. Faith bent at the waist to touch Claire’s belly for herself.

“Sees-ter,” Faith said with a slight grin herself.

While the joy of adding to their family was blissful, the fact that Faith made her intentions on the sex clear to her parents renewed an internal fear of theirs that had plagued them since Faith’s own birth.

They exchanged a look that said the same thing.

_“We need to make sure this time.”_

\----

_July 1973_

The Sovereigns’ hopes and dreams of finally having a son were dashed away the day Geillis told Claire and Jamie that they were expecting another daughter, the ultrasound clearly showing the results of their blessed union.

“She’s tae be as braw as her big sister, ye ken,” Geillis said, pressing the neonatal stethoscope to Claire’s growing belly, listening intently to the wee heartbeat from inside. “She’s an active one, that’s fer sure!” The faithful midwife laughed as the child within kicked against the stethoscope. Even Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle.

While Jamie and Claire were both elated that their unborn child was thriving and would be born healthy, it didn’t make them feel any better about the current laws in place. While Jamie did his best to soothe his wife about the prospects of their daughters never inheriting what they believed was rightly theirs, the fire in his soul reignited. He vowed to spend as much time as he could to get the courts to change their minds about the law.

The only good thing to come from this pregnancy was that Claire was not suffering nearly as much this time around. And it was _really_ good. She barely had any nausea, which was why she didn’t pick up on the fact right away. Food tasted so much better this time around, and she could now out-eat Jamie!

“Dinna overdo it, Sassenach,” Jamie remarked at dinner one night with a mischievous smirk on his face, “people will think yer eatin’ fer three rather than two.”

That resulted in a bannock being thrown at his head, nailing him in the temple.

“Don’t think I won’t overthrow your reign, King James,” Claire whispered dangerously, causing Jenny and Ian to stifle their laughter, “just because you’re the father of this little _one._ ”

That caused the dam to break and everyone started laughing. Even Claire, who wasn’t even close to being full.

Despite the happiness shared with family over the news, and despite things going right for once, the overwhelming dark cloud that was the Scottish court still continued to dampen their resolve with its rain and thunder. It was only a matter of time before Jamie was forced to intervene as King. 

He really did not want to do that. But would, if it preserved the interests of the Scottish Crown.

\----

Over the next several months leading up to Claire’s due date, Jamie made several visits to the Scottish courts in Edinburgh, to try and make them see reason. He used every angle he had to convince the courts to overthrow that damn law that prevented his daughters, his heart’s blood, from one day sitting where he now sat. As Queen.

But despite his arguments, the old, fearful men refused to see things from his point of view. Tradition kept them immobile. Long standing rules and rites, sacred as the Culloden Moor itself, prevented them from budging from the law in place. And each night, Jamie would come back to Lallybroch Castle with his head hanging low, defeat crumbling his resolve.

When September turned into October, and Claire’s due date was a mere two weeks away, Claire could see that her husband was falling into despair. That fire within his soul had been doused. She could not let that stand.

She did something unprecedented in Scotland’s history. Something that queens before her would have been executed for on the spot.

Claire Fraser, Queen Broch Tuarach, barged in on a private court session and demanded the attentions of the men inside.

“Yer Majesty!” The Lord President exclaimed, clearly torn between telling her to get out, and bowing before her as she was still his Queen.

“Pardon us, Yer Majesty, respectfully, we must ask ye tae leave, this-”

“I am not going anywhere until you listen to what I have to say,” Claire interrupted, her face ablaze with anger and fury. Nobody dared breathed in her direction. All eyes were focused on her. She held her arms and hands firmly against the full term child still comfortably nestled within her womb.

“Each and every one of you brings _shame_ upon the entire Scottish empire. Laws that were put into place long ago yet are outdated and inconceivably misogynistic and discriminatory, and you continue to enforce them. You wouldn’t be so quick to defend your precious _tradition_ if it were your daughter next in line to rule this country!”

“Yer Majesty, I-”

“AS YOUR QUEEN I AM NOT DONE SPEAKING.” Claire shouted, her voice bouncing off the hollow walls of the courthouse. “Nobody gets to speak while I have the floor. You’ve done your talking. Now it’s my turn.”

Silence befell the room once more.

“The longer you forbid my daughters from taking what is rightfully there’s, gifted to them by _God alone,_ the longer you will find yourselves in Your Queen’s ill favor. Think about that, next time King James III comes to you, not as your King, but as a father trying to do what’s best for his children’s future.”

Two heartbeats passed before Claire walked out of the court room, head held high and anger even higher, the empty space of dreary silence following in her wake.

Court ended up being adjourned early that day. And no one ever brought this incident to the King’s attention.


	9. Canna Force Ye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie vows to make things right to secure the longevity of the Scottish Crown when Jenny and Ian pledge to keep their children away from the limelight of royalty.

_ _

_ Lallybroch Castle _ _   
_ _ Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser _ _   
_ _ 23 October 1973 _

The day Brianna was born started out just like any other for the Scottish Royal Family. Claire got up and made sure the family and servant had their morning meals, Jamie kissed his beautiful wife and Queen goodbye for the day before getting down on his knees and kissing the baby she was still carrying inside. He picked Faith up, tossing her shortly in the air before devouring her cheeks with peppered kisses.

Claire decided to spend some time in the gardens since it was a relatively warm day for late October. Faith wanted to spend the day inside coloring in her new coloring book that Auntie Jenny had given her.

Jamie hadn’t even walked into the offices of the Scottish Court when someone ran frantically into him.

“Yer Majesty!” the young man bowed quickly before attempting to tug at Jamie’s sleeves.

“Are ye alright, man? Tell me yer troubles.” Jamie knew to be patient with certain people working for the royal government. A lot of them were naturally intimidated by Jamie’s large, muckled size. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really.

“Yer needed back at the castle urgently, Yer Majesty! Queen Broch Tuarach’s waters have broken, and she’s in labour!”

_ “A Dhia,” _ Jamie cursed, not bothering to keep his voice down. Of all the days for him to leave the castle! He turned around to see Auld Alec walking in behind him.

“What’s amiss, Yer Majesty?” Alec said with all the calm of a saint, clearly having no idea of the present situation.

“The Queen is in labour,” Jamie said frantically, walking quickly past him, “ready the car!”

\---

Jamie raced throughout the halls of Lallybroch Castle before the car came to a complete stop, nearly knocking down several servants and maid who were just doing their jobs. He didn’t have time to apologize. Despite how smoothly Claire’s pregnancy had gone, the young king was always in fear that Claire would succumb to the same fate his mother did. He would never forgive himself if that happened.

But by the time he made it to the birthing room, the sounds of a fresh set of healthy lungs wailing nearly brought tears to his eyes. Not just out of happiness that the bairn was alive and well, but because he wasn’t here when she was born.

“Dinna fash yerself, Yer Majesty,” Geillis said as she was wiping afterbirth blood from her hands, “ye would’ve had tae be in the gardens wi’ the Queen fer ye to be here in time. It all happened so fast! From the water breaking til now, hasna even been an hour! The wee princess was in a right hurry to join yer family!”

That brought a smile to the king’s face as he ignored the pang in his heart at the fact of them having another daughter. Another reason to fight the court system. Another unnecessary reason, in his mind. He approached the bed where his beautiful wife, sweating and hair messy, was nursing their second daughter for the first time.

“She had your hair, it seems,” Claire said tiredly. Despite only suffering through the birth for less than an hour, only fifteen minutes of pushing...well, it wasn’t called “labour” for nothing. “I supposed we’ll never have a child with my coloring.”

“I hope that isna complaint from ye, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled, his eyes tearing up slightly.

“No, of course not,” Claire smiled back. “Just a passing thought. You have hair that most women would murder for.”

Jamie blushed slightly at that. “I dinna ken about that...blame my mam.”

Both parents shared a chuckled as the new bairn continued her contented suckling from her mother’s breast.

“She’s so wee,” Jamie whispered, running a light finger across the child’s soft cheek. The baby cracked a small smile, and Jamie’s heart broke at the sight of it.

He cursed himself for not being there for Faith like he was with his newest daughter now. He decided to soak up as much time with her in these first few days as he could. Because he planned to make it very clear to the courts his intentions for his daughters, Scotland, and the future of the monarchy.

\---

> _**WELCOME TO THE WORLD! HER ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCESS BRIANNA ELLEN JANET FRASER BORN HEALTHY ON THIS 23rd DAY OF OCTOBER, IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1973!** _

Professional photographers were in and out of Lallybroch Castle most of the day the following week, recording history in the making for yet another royal princess being added to the Fraser lineage. Jamie and Claire were both smiling as wide as they could, to the point where their face hurt! Faith was absolutely elated to have a little sister; she still wanted to have wee Jamie come over to play, but now they had an extra playmate.

“But darling,” Claire told Faith, “Brianna is still too little to play with you and your cousin. Give her a few years to grow.”

“Too long! Wanna play now!” Faith whined in her adorable two-year-old voice.

“I know, lovey,” Claire tried to soothe. Jamie picked up the wee girl and placed her in his lap.

“Dinna fash, a leannan,” Jamie cooed in the Gàidhlig. “One day ye and yer sister will be runnin’ the palace together. Give yer wee sister some time, aye? She needs Mam’s help in growin’, and Mam needs ye tae be braw and wait.”

“Okay, Da,” Faith smeared a wet kiss across Jamie’s cheek, causing him to laugh. A maid came over and quickly wiped the mess away before more photography took place.

Jamie looked at Claire sitting next to him, with a sleeping Brianna in her arms, cozy and content in her mother’s arms, and he once again thanked God for giving him the love of his life and two children as a result of their union. He would never grow tired of seeing her with his bairns in her arms.

\---

__ Beaufort Castle   
Beauly, Kilmorack Parish, Scotland   
3 November 1973

With the renovations complete, Jenny and Ian were adamant about inviting Jamie, Claire and the girls over to show off their home.

The van that carried the Royal Family together now sported two child seats in the third row, with the second row reversed so that Jamie and Claire could see, interact, and care for their children while on the road. Naturally, Auld Alec was the only castle employee with the keys to that car. Jamie trusted no one else to see his family transported around Scotland safely.

“Beaufort Castle, Yer Majesties,” Alex said from the driver’s seat. “Princess Janet and Prince Ian insisted on greetin’ ye themselves.”

“As I expected,” Jamie said back, smiling at how Faith was showing off her latest drawing to a drooling Brianna.

“Just from the road, you can see how beautiful it looks,” Claire breathed, practically pressing her face into the window to get a glimpse. Rather un-ladylike, but Jamie knew she didn’t care. By the time they pulled underneath the stone archway that served as an awning for arriving guests, perfect for shielding travelers from Scotland’s usual rainy days, Jamie and Claire were left speechless at the sight of the once-dilapidated castle.

Jamie knew that Jenny had insisted that the castle be refurbished from the ground up, including the crumbling foundation.

_ “If my bairns are gonna be livin’ here, it willna do tae have me worryin’ about the floors cavin’ in!”  _ Jenny had told him.

The walls were almost glistening with newness, the Fraser Colors brandishing themselves proudly on the outer walls next to the flagpole that flew Scotland’s blue-and-white flag. Jamie helped Faith get out of the car while Claire carefully extracted Brianna from her seat. Just as Alec had said, Jenny, Ian, and wee Jamie were awaiting their arrival. Hugs and kisses were exchanged, and Claire allowed Jenny to take wee Brianna from her arms.

“Such a beautiful bairn,” Jenny cooed, smiling down at Brianna. “Has her father’s coloring, just like her grandmother ‘afore her. Aye, a Fraser, through and through!”

“Thank ye,” Jamie beamed with pride.

“Supper’s coming along in the kitchen,” Ian said, “let’s go tae the sitting room. There’s a playroom in the east wing.”

“Come, Faithy!” wee Jamie all but screeched, taking the young girl’s hand. “I’ll show ye all my toys!”

A nanny appeared beside the children to escort and supervise them.

“Be safe and play nicely, Faith!” Claire called out as they bounded down the corridor and out of sight.

Jenny and Ian showed Claire and Jamie all the upgrades, renovations, and additions to the castle. The last time anyone had been inside before Jenny and Ian made it their home was King Brian during the last few years of his princehood. Jamie recognized that his mother had never set foot inside Beaufort, no doubt because his father cited it as too dangerous.

But seeing it now, it was like he was an 18th century Highlander years before the Rising. It was brand new in every sense of the word, and no doubt would serve as a functioning home for many royal to come after him and his bloodline.

Jenny and Ian led the Royal couple to a rather large and modernized sitting room. She handed Brianna back to Claire, who passed the wean to Jamie. Jamie smiled down at his youngest daughter, lightly pecking her forehead with a sweet kiss, but when he looked up at his sister, he could tell something weighing her conscience down. He knew his sister almost as well as she knew herself. While she had his talent for hiding her true emotions from her face, he had become a master at reading her.

“This wasna just a chance fer ye tae show off Beaufort Castle, was it?” Jamie asked without hesitation.

Claire looked between Jamie, Jenny and Ian, and saw that the latter couple were exchanging dubious looks of doubt and worry.

“What’s the matter?” Claire asked. “Are you alright?”

“Aye, we’re braw!” Ian tried to lighten the mood, but failed miserably. Unlike Jenny, Ian was more like Claire in regards to her glass face.

Something was wrong.

“Legally,” Jenny began, and Jamie had a feeling as to where this conversation was going. He had had these thoughts in his own head before. “I am heid o’ this family, despite the bairns takin’ Ian’s last name. And as such, the two of us have come tae a decision, in regard tae the royal line of succession.”

Jenny took a deep breath, as if to prepare herself to break bad news to her brother and sister in law. But Jamie beat her to it.

“Ye dinna want wee Jamie tae be King, aye?”

When Jenny looked up, a small, sad, but understanding smile was on Jamie’s face. A look flashed across Jenny’s face that signified relief, like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Aye. Ian and I...we’re happy here. Being out here in the countryside, raising our bairns, away from the hectic life of royalty. And...and we want it tae stay that way. I ken what my son’s life will be like were he tae be declared yer Heir Apparent. Or any sons we may have in the future. I also ken that yer havin’ trouble wi’ trying tae convince the Scottish courts that-”

“Dinna fash,  _ a ghràidh, _ ” Jamie said as he reached over to place a hand in hers. “I wouldna wish this life on anyone, especially ye and yer weans. If ye dinna wish tae subject yer bairns tae that, then I willna either. Ye have my word, Janet. No’ just as yer brother, but as yer King.”

Everyone stood and exchanged hugs, mindful of Brianna still in Jamie’s arms.

Leaving Beaufort Castle gave Jamie a new sense of purpose. Not just as King of Scotland, but as the father of two daughters who deserved to inherit was what theirs by birthright and by blood.

While there was breath in his body, a beat to his heart, and will in his spirit, King James III would not stop fighting to make things right for his family, his bloodline, and Scotland.


	10. Blood Diamond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been ten years since King James III of Scotland took his rightful place as the country’s leader. But the announcement he makes at his celebration speech will send shockwaves throughout the Royal courts.

> **10 YEARS LATER**

_Our Royal Lady of Divinity Abbey_ _  
_ _Edinburgh, Scotland_ _  
_ _11 November 1979_ _  
_ _7:44pm Local Time_

“Brave face, darling,” Claire tried to soothed her anxious husband, but it was no use. The King was pacing the room they were staying in above the Abbey on the eve of his 10 year reign celebration.

“As brave as I can muster considering I dinna even want tae be here,” Jamie grumbled, raking a hand through his hair for possibly the thousandth time tonight.

“You can’t exactly _blame_ the council,” Claire attempted reason. “I mean, let’s face fact with fact. Nobody thought you would make it this far as king, let alone thrive with the weight of the Scottish Crown atop that fiery head of yours.”

That made Jamie stop, and he gave Claire a sardonic look. But her kind, whisky eyes soothed his nerves. Like they always did. He sighed, managed a small smile, and reached out to take her into his strong embrace.

“Aye, weel,” Jamie hummed, nuzzling his nose against her sweet-smelling brown curls. “It doesna do the council any good tae celebrate my coronation anniversary if they dinna wish tae _listen_ to me.”

“In due time, my love,” Claire stepped up to give him a kiss. Something the king savored. “All in due time.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” Jamie called out.

In bobbed two young redheaded little girls. His frightening demeanor evaporated, replaced with a wide, gleaming smile.

“Och! Yer Royal Highnesses!” Jamie cheered with a stifled laugh, he and Claire properly bowing and curtsying before their daughters. 

Over the years, Princesses Faith and Brianna Fraser had grown very close and thus far were inseparable. Faith was now eight years old and, despite inheriting her father’s striking coloring, she was the spitting image of her mother, right down to her red hair being unruly with riotous curls and matching whisky-amber eyes. Brianna, on the other hand, took after her father more, her red hair coming around her shoulders in long, soft waves, with bright blue eyes and a monstrous temper that could whip any Royal soldier into shape with the crack of the whip that was her voice.

“Da! Ye dinna need tae do that!” Faith proclaimed, ever the studious character. “ _We_ are supposed tae curtsy ‘afore ye and _Mam!_ Just like I showed ye, Bree.”

Faith and Brianna both curtsied before their parents, causing the Fraser elders to laugh and pick their children up.

“Both of ye are _verra_ fine lassies,” Jamie had Brianna in his arms, kissing her cheek.

“What are you two up to this evening?” Claire asked Faith, who was curling herself into her mother’s arms.

“We’re bored, Mama,” Brianna said glumly from Jamie’s grasp, bringing her thumb into her mouth. Jamie promptly corrected this action, gently removing the offending limb from between her lips; Claire and Jamie had spent _years_ trying to get Faith to break her of the thumb-sucking habit and she had only just stopped a few months ago. Both royals were adamant that they would _not_ suffer the same trouble with her younger sister.

“Bored? Already?” Claire replied, “why’s that? Are the toys we brought with us to Edinburgh not enough to sate your thirst for entertainment?”

“We’ve played with them for two days straight! We want to go see the city!” Faith exclaimed as Claire put her down. Jamie did the same to Brianna and had them both face him.

“Now, girls,” he said in his best fatherly voice, “ye ken we’re here fer verra important business. But I assure ye. Once that business is handled, we’ll see about doin’ some sightseein’, aye?”

“Yer word, My King,” Faith said stubbornly.

Jamie gave her a stern look. “My what?”

“Yer word. Ye always say, _‘if ye canna make a promise ye canna keep, dinna make it.’_ So, yer word that we will go out as a family after the celebration.”

Jamie’s heart beat a little faster at that, skipping a beat or two in the process. On the one hand, he wanted to put his foot down and remind his daughter _who_ was actually in charge here, but on the other, he was so incredibly proud of her for remembering what he had taught her it made him fit to burst. He smiled, adjusted himself so that he was kneeling on one knee, and placed a hand over his heart, which was still beating frantically.

“I, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, as yer King and father, promise ye both, Faith Jocasta Caitriona Fraser, and Brianna Ellen Janet Fraser, Royal Princesses of Broch Tuarach, that ye twa, yer mother and I will have a day of fun and enjoyment during our stay in Edinburgh.”

That seemed to satisfy the girls. They kissed their father, hugged both their parents, and made off back to their own rooms.

That night when the girls were tucked safely into bed, Jamie and Claire held each other in their own, contemplating their plan.

“Do you really think this will work?” Claire asked nervously.

“Aye, it will,” Jamie affirmed with sturdy confidence. “Dinna fash, my Sassenach. All will be well.”

\---

_12 November 1979_   
_Edinburgh, Scotland_ _  
_ 10:00am Local Time

A rather elaborate parade was slowly trekking its way down the Royal Mile, with the King, Queen, and princesses watching from their balcony perch atop the Abbey. People waved and cheered for their Sovereigns, especially Jamie. Colorful banners and signs were being held up proudly to show the people’s support. The Scottish Royal Army Band was playing a whole symphony of music directly in front of them. And when the Scottish National Anthem rang out, everyone in the streets started singing along in the Gàidhlig, as tradition demanded.

Jamie, Claire, and the girls made their way from the balcony and down towards the front steps of the Abbey. A podium was erected at the center of the first landing and several news media microphones from outlets all across the United Kingdoms of Britannia were being attached to it. The Scottish Royal Council, as well as the Sovereigns of England, Wales, and Ireland were all in attendance to speak on the felicitations due to Scotland’s King.

Their neighboring sovereigns all took their turns in speaking first, showering Jamie with adoration and praise for how he was running his country, each of them leaving with a bow before Jamie’s feet. Then, the Lord President of the Scottish Council spoke on behalf of the Scottish people, praising the King for his commitment to country, duty, and his family, and praying for many more years of Himself’s leadership to come.

It was Jamie’s turn to speak, address Scotland and Her people, as he was their voice to the rest of the world. He gave Claire one last look of encouragement, who nodded her acknowledgement, cleared his throat, and stepped in front of the microphones.

“Thank ye all fer yer kind wishes, warm welcome, and continued support for Scotland and Her People!” he said, his voice booming in ricocheting echos across the city. It was met with equally thunderous applause and cheers.

He continued. “My father always believed in the good of people. Always gave the citizens the benefit of the doubt, because he truly felt that pure hearts were all around us. No one is inherently wicked, only circumstances can truly force someone tae commit acts of deceit and evil.”

Jamie could see most of the crowd agreeing with him, the nodding heads and murmurs of acknowledgement spreading throughout. He went on.

“I believe that too, fer I have seen wi’ me own bonny blue eyes,” he paused for a moment, letting the crowd enjoy a chuckle before going on, “Scotland and Her people have the kindest hearts and the strongest will tae survive anything!”

The crowd cheers and applauded some more. Claire stole a glance towards where the Lord President and his councilmen were sitting, and none of them appeared to be comfortable in their seats. She smirked to herself. _Good,_ she thought, _things are going as planned so far._

“Wi’ that being said, as yer Sovereign, it has always been my utmost pleasure and priority, tae ensure that the Royal House of Clan Fraser will prosper fer many generation tae come. And will continue tae prosper long after I have left this world. Sae long as Scotland allows it.

“Therefore, with the agreement and approval of my wife, yer Queen Broch Tuarach,” Jamie gestured with a wide-swinging arm towards where Claire was sitting, and she inclined her head towards the crowd, “I declare ‘afore ye all, my will and pleasure, that I name my oldest daughter, Her Royal Highness Princess Faith of Broch Tuarach, as my Heiress Apparent!”

It was as if someone had started shooting confetti and happiness into the sky. Riotous cheers, applause, hoots and shouts of support and praise raced through the crowd. For their safety, the princesses were not in attendance during the speeches, at Jamie’s insistence. He really didn’t know how Scotland would take with him breaking tradition, but it didn’t matter now. Scotland’s people approved of this move. And a weight lifted from Jamie’s heart.

“And if fate shall have other plans fer her, then it is my will and pleasure that her sister, Her Royal Highness Princess Brianna of Broch Tuarach, shall take her place, as is both of their birthrights and inheritance. Thank ye all fer yer continued support! _Beannaich Dia Alba! Sláinte mhath!_ ”

_“Beannaich Dia Alba!”_ The crowd repeated in earnest. _“Sláinte mhath!”_

\---

“Well that went better than you hoped, didn’t it?” Claire said, completely exhausted from the last few days.

True to his word, Jamie fulfilled his promise to his daughters and the four Frasers spend the next day playing tourists in Edinburgh. They visited shops of all kinds, indulged in a few too many sweeties, played jump rope and hopscotch along the sidewalks where shop owners allowed them to draw with chalk, and that night the girls slept after wearing themselves out. Faith, much to her sister’s dismay, insisted on visiting the National Library of Scotland. While Jamie and Claire couldn’t figure out why, they naturally obliged. Since Jamie’s father, the late King Brian IV, regularly supported the governmental funding of the library’s legal deposit status, he gladly continued that support himself. This granted him and his family access to the royal family archives anytime they wanted.

Jamie initially worried that the press would be all in their faces with questions they weren’t able to answer, and he feared how his daughters would handle the attention, but he was gratefully surprised to find that most Edinburghers left him and his family alone while they enjoyed themselves. Maybe it had to do with the fact that his coronation celebration was still going on, or the fact that his old reputation for being a womanizer that idolized criminal activity repelled the crowds. It didn’t really matter; he was just happy that he could give his wee lassies a day of fun and enjoyment away from Lallybroch Castle.

“Dinna count yer chickens ‘afore they hatch, Sassenach,” Jamie finally replied, sliding into bed next to Claire.

“What does that mean?” Claire propped herself up on her elbow to look up at Jamie. “The people clearly spoke their approval at the speech.”

“Aye, true, but the people arena the ones enforcin’ the laws, now are they?” Jamie felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. His heart gave another uncomfortable lurch.

Claire seemed to catch on. “The council.”

“D’ye see how they were leerin’ at me after I finished? They’re auld vultures who like tae pick on the flesh of the young and vibrant. They willna let this rest.”

“But _you’re_ the King, Jamie,” Claire argued. “If you’re pulling out your ultimate Sovereign trump card, then they won’t be able to put up much of a fight. They’ll _have_ to submit to your law.”

“That’s the plan,” Jamie sighed.

“Then why are you so worried?” Claire pleaded. She reached out and took Jamie’s face into her hands, cradling it tenderly. “What’s the matter, my love? Tell me your troubles.”

Jamie took a deep breath, relishing in the warmth of his wife’s embrace. He smiled at her.

“I dinna ken...I...I’m nervous about pulling this off. D’ye ken how many times my father had tae use this advantage tae leverage against the council?”

Claire shrugged. “Twice?”

“Never.”

Claire blinked. “Never? Not once?”

Jamie nodded and maneuvered his face away from Claire’s grasp. “My father didna find anythin’ the council did under his reign unjust or in any way detrimental tae the Scottish people. Come tae think o’ it, neither did my Grandsire, King James II...I dinna have any first hand, or second hand, experience tae go off of. I guess my nerves are in a wee bit o’ a kebby-lebby o’er it.”

Claire smiled up at him, softening him.

“Let’s just get some sleep, alright?”

\---

Jamie didn’t expect anyone to be pleased with his presence when he walked into the Scottish Royal Courts building the following morning.

What he hadn’t counted on was what felt like full blown anarchy within the halls of the prestigious court room. The minute he walked into the court room and the doors shut behind him, almost everyone in the room started shouting curses at him. They called him a traitor, an anti-traditionist, and the worst of all-

“Yer no better than the feckin’ Sassenachs we defeated on Culloden Moor.”

Whatever sense, calm, or collectiveness Jamie had when he walked into the room vanished like ice in a furnace. His resolve snapped.

“SILENCE!” Jamie bellowed, startling a lot of the councilmembers and effectively shutting everyone up. He took a deep, steadying breath. Then spoke once more, conviction in his words and in his heart.

“I will _not_ have _my_ council spit curses at me. I dinna care _what_ yer reasoning is, YOU. SERVE. ME. AS. SOVEREIGN. Not the other way around. To the letter of the law itself, while all o’ ye serve tae protect the vested interests of the Scottish Crown, it is still _my_ pleasure tae keep ye under the employ of that Crown. I can change that if I find ye arena serving Her people as I see fit.

“Now, I have been patient, and I have been trusting. But it has become verra apparent that no one in this room is willing tae budge and consider the situation we find ourselves in.”

No one dared to speak now.

“My sister, Princess Janet, and her husband, Prince Ian, have already declared their children unqualified tae rule Scotland. My nephew, Prince James, will never, sae long as his parents still live, and while I am still King, inherit the Scottish throne. My wife, _yer Queen,_ ” Jamie placed emphasis on those words, as if to remind them why she was queen in the first place, “has already resigned herself tae our two daughters. Their Royal Highnesses, Princesses Faith and Brianna are all this bloodline will see in the way o’ sovereign. Like I said, I have been patient, and understanding, but now yer adamant refusal tae allow my daughters tae take their rightful place on the Scottish throne someday ends. Now.

“I have declared it my will and pleasure tae name my Heiress Apparent. And all o’ ye shall comply wi’ that decree. If any man on the council shall defy the order and ruling of His King here and now, step forward and relieve yerself of yer duty to Scotland and my government. No harm will come tae ye.”

In the space of seven heartbeats (most of them rapid and racing within Jamie’s own chest) nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Then, the Lord President of the Council step forward, making direct eye contact with Jamie for the first time that day.

“We herein recognize His Majesty’s decree provided unto him by God and declare Her Royal Highness Princess Faith Jocasta Caitriona Fraser, Princess of Broch Tuarach, as Heiress Apparent tae the Scottish Throne.

“And if Princess Faith is not able tae fulfill her destiny that God has bestowed upon her, then her sister, Her Royal Highness Princess Brianna Ellen Janet Fraser, Princess of Broch Tuarach, shall be within her birthright to take her place. All in favor?”

Every hand rose in the room.

“All oppose?”

Deafening silence and motionlessness. Jamie smiled.

“Then, as Lord President of the Royal Scottish Council, it is within my power granted by His Majesty the King that I declare the Rights of Royal Sovereign Succession Act of 1746 unconstitutional and unlawful, and hereby strike it down this thirteenth day of November, in the Year of Our Lord, 1979. All children born to the current, and future, Sovereigns of Scotland, regardless of sex, shall be eligible tae inherit the Scottish Crown, as is their birthright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beannaich Dia Alba! = God Bless Scotland!  
> Slainte mhath = good health


	11. Heiress Apparent, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, the time has come to start preparing the young Fraser princesses for their chance at sovereignty. But one of them isn’t happy about the prospect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet y’all are sighing in relief, going “thank GOD she’s writing again!” lolol I want to thank everyone for their unfathomable and clearly indefinite patience with me and my works. I love each and every one of you xx

> **ELDER CLAN FRASER PRINCESS NOW OFFICIAL HEIRESS APPARENT TO KING JAMES III**

Jamie and Claire slept well the night following Jamie’s royal intervention at the Scottish Court of Sovereign. In fact, it was the best night’s sleep they had had in a very long time. Neither of them dreamt; they didn’t need to. Both arguably felt that all their dreams and fantasies had at long last become a reality. The Royal couple couldn’t have asked for anything more.

The following week, the Scottish King and Queen met with the castle advisors, as well as Jamie’s godfather, Lord Murtagh, to begin planning for their daughters’ futures and their immediate educational needs. Faith wold be taught, trained, and prepared to succeed her father as Queen someday. Brianna, on the other hand, would be given a scaled version of Faith’s royal sovereign education and training, but unlike her sister, she would be free to pursue any educational venture she wished once she was older.

“Faith will be tutored in private, like Willie was, on all matters of Scottish history and law during her primary school years. When she becomes of age fer secondary education, she will be schooled on matters of sovereignty and her powers as Queen.” Murtagh had been the one to organize and enforce the sovereign education of Jamie’s late brother before his untimely death. As King, Jamie trusted no one else with his children’s regnal development.

Jenny had also offered to Claire her wisdom on all things a lady of royal birth would need to know.

“Being born a royal is verra different than marryin’ one,” Jenny had said with a smile in the parlor of Beaufort Castle. Claire had accepted her invitation for tea while the children were playing under the watchful eye of the castle’s head nanny. “And there are certain responsibilities that are expected of princesses, no’ just in society, but in other royal circles. If I hadna had my mother early on in my life, I dinna ken where I’d be!”

“I appreciate anything you’re willing to do for the girls,” Claire placed a hand atop her sister-in-law’s, returning her smile. But then, it faded as a thought struck her. “I wonder what that says about me as Queen.”

“It says ye werena born into it, and that’s perfectly fine!” Jenny laughed slightly. “My mother wasna born tae it either, no’ in the way my father was. Clan MacKenzie has some hold on the monarchy but they’re no’ as powerful as Clan Fraser. Jacob and Anne Grant produced two princes and four princesses, my mother being the eldest. But despite having a status of royalty, that didna guarantee any one of them would succeed the Scottish Throne. Mam just got lucky.”

Claire felt much better in herself as Queen and as Faith and Brianna’s mother as she made her way back to Lallybroch Castle that evening. Dinner however alarmed Claire. A place where the girls usually had the run of all conversations and their parents more than happy to just listen, both girls were reserved in their manners. This didn’t go unnoticed by either the King or Queen, but neither of them voiced their concerns. They made it their to let their daughters come to them with concerns rather than try to force it out unnaturally.

Later that night, long after Jamie and Claire had gone to bed, there was a quiet knock at Faith’s door.

“Ye may enter,” she called out as loud as she could without waking the whole castle.

A timid Brianna slowly emerged from the threshold.

“All weel, Bree?” Faith asked, taking back her seat at her vanity as she prepared for bed. Brianna stood there a moment after closing the door to admire her older sister. Faith had a meticulous routine, both for preparing for the day ahead, and preparing for bed. She internally grumbled at the thought of that process becoming mor complicated now that her sister was the heiress apparent to their father.

“I’m fine,” Brianna said, but she had their mother’s glass face; anything she said betrayed her looks if she wasn’t truthful.

“Liar,” Faith mused with a cheeky smile, brushing her hair. One hundred strokes of the brush weaved their way through long, slick, fiery red hair. The same coloring that she and her sister had inherited from not only her father, but their grandmother before them.

Brianna huffed. “I ken I’m no’ going tae be Queen, but...” another huff of annoyance, “I dinna want tae be anywhere near next in line fer the Scottish Crown! I dinna being Princess, but I dinna wanna be after ye! I wanna go out in the world, do my own thing! I canna be doin’ that if there’s a chance I’ll become Queen...have tae get marrit, have bairns...”

The audible grumble that came from behind Faith made her laugh.

“‘T’isna funny, Faith!” Brianna defended, managing to snag a throw pillow from the sofa in the room and throw it at Faith’s head. Agile and swift like a hawk, like their father, Faith caught it even before she could turn around. 

Faith stood up and replaced the pillow neatly from wence it came and looked at her younger sister like she just hadn’t been assaulted with furniture decor.

“Why did ye no’ speak tea Mam and Da about this?” Faith asked with a quirk of an pale, ruddy eyebrow but no malice or facetiousness in her voice.

Brianna was at a loss for words; she had her there.

Faith sighed, and brought her arms around Brianna’s shoulders to embrace her.

“Ye ken,  _ mo phiuthar, _ ye can always talk to Mam and Da about this. In fact, they’d better tae speak tae than I. They’ll ken how to put yer fears in their place. Out o’ yer mind. Dinna fash about them judgin’ ye.”

Wise beyond her years. That’s what all the adults said about Faith. Despite her incredibly young age, she always displayed a prowess and energy that befits a monarch in waiting. Even in the privacy of her own bed chambers. It was just in her nature. Just as it was their mother’s.

“Speak wi’ Da on the morrow,  _ gaol beag. _ He’ll ken what to say. And I’m sure, wi’out a doubt, he can put yer mind and heart at ease.”

Brianna embraced her sister back as hard as she could. What would she ever do without her big sister?

\---

There was a knock on Jamie’s study door in the late morning the following day.

“Wonder who that could be,” Claire inquired, standing up straight after being bent over Jamie’s shoulder to read the document he had in his hand.

“Aye?” Jamie called out, setting the document down.

One of the Royal Guardsmen entered. “Yer Majesties, Her Royal Highness Princess Brianna has requested to speak wi’ ye.”

Jamie brightened instantly. “Aye, o’ course! Send her in.”

Claire and Jamie exchanged a look before the guardsman returned with Brianna following closely behind. The guardsman bowed towards Jamie and Claire before taking his leave.

“Mam, Da,” Brianna started to curtsy before them, but stopped herself.

“Hello, darling,” Claire crossed the room to hug their daughter.

“I hope I’m no’ disturbin’ ye,” Brianna said to Jamie, tediously.

“Och,” Jamie huffed with a smile, coming over to greet her himself. “Yer never a bother,  _ a leannan. _ Sit, please.”

Jamie gestured towards the fine sitting area in the corner opposite where Faith’s playset used to be. It ended up being shared between the two princesses after Brianna was born, but now it holds a small table and armchair for reading near the window. The curtains were currently partially drawn to allow some natural light in. King, Queen, and Princess all seated themselves around the large end table that held an antique crystal whisky set, the gold-amber liquid shimmering in the little sunlight that made it to that side of the room. Neither Jamie nor Claire poured themselves a dram. Their attention was solely focused on their daughter.

“Tell me yer troubles,  _ a leannan, _ ” Jamie began, taking Brianna by surprise.

“How did y-”

“Ye have yer mother’s glass face, ye ken,” he replied with a cheek side smile.

Brianna slightly blushed at that, to which Jamie and Claire exchanged knowing smiles. The young princess took a deep breath before speaking.

“I dinna want tae be queen!”

While her mother blinked in surprise, Jamie’s stoic expression did not change. The King clearly passed down the trait of masking emotions on a frightening level to only one of his daughters, and it wasn’t Brianna.

“Whyever not?” Claire asked, remaining soundly neutral despite the worried expression she couldn’t wipe off her face.

“I want tae be able tae see the world, travel, maybe attend uni...but, I-I canna do that if I’m possibly tae be the next queen!” Brianna’s almost-whining tone softened Jamie’s expression; he knew exactly how she felt. Although, unlike his daughter, he wasn’t given a choice when his older brother died, leaving him the automatic heir apparent.

“Brianna,” Claire began, “true, there’s always the possibility that something might happen to your sister, forcing you to maybe become queen one day, but-”

“The possibility is so miniscule,” Jamie finished, “that it isna even being considered. That’s why yer sister is gettin’ a far more indepth education on all matters of sovereignty, and yers is more academic in nature. Yer sister is a braw lady, strong and verra healthy, just as ye are. But it’s also why we dinna allow ye twa tae travel together anymore. It lessens the changes o’ potentially losin’ both o’ ye tae accident or...such...”

Claire knew exactly what Jamie meant by “such” and why he didn’t mention it to Brianna. The attempted assasination of his great-grandsire, in truth, had no correlation to current events, but why try to scare the poor girl when it could be avoided? Besides, there were more modern reasons why someone would want to assassinate a royal.

“The point your father is trying to make is,” Claire said, “is we have plans in place to ensure the future of the Scottish Crown. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’re guaranteed to be next in line for the throne. It just mean, we’re prepared for any possibilities that life decides to throw our way. Whatever you want to do with your life, your father and I will be the first to stand behind you one-hundred percent.”

“Aye,” Jamie agreed, taking his wife’s hand into his own and squeezing it gently. Both sovereigns looked upon their daughter with conviction and assurity.

Brianna was close to tears by the time she was done exchanging hugs with her parents and making her way back to her bed chamber.

The young royal slept better that night than she had in a very long time.


	12. Heiress Apparent, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We jump fifteen years into the storyline to find both of our princesses as university students, where love, exams, and a great tragedy await them.

**15 Years Later**

_ University of Stirling _ _   
_ _ Stirling, Scotland _ _   
_ _ 11 February 1994 _ _   
_ _ 8:00am Local Time _

For many years, twenty-three year old Faith Fraser, or if addressed by the general public, Princess Faith of Broch Tuarach, struggled to find an identity hidden beneath the showmanship and glamour of royalty. She was the one person who would succeed her father to the throne someday, and that tended up add a lot of unnecessary dissection and scrutiny to her daily activities of living.

After she completed her basic sovereignty education, she decided she wanted a taste of what was distastefully described (in her opinion) as “commoner education.” The council, naturally disapproved of such a silly notion.

_ “Why bother? You willna be needing anything  _ they _ can teach you!” _

_ “A future queen doesna need tae concern herself wi’ how a commoner is education! Preposterous!” _

_ “Puir wee thing, she’ll probably be too overwhelmed with the attention and be sacked right out of the building ‘afore she can take any exams!” _

_ “I think it’s a wonderful idea,”  _ The King said to the court, silencing them all at once. Some even gaped at him like fish out of water.  _ “Think about it. It’s no’ like she isna accustomed to how the common Scottish citizen lives out their lives. Ye have yer Queen Broch Tuarach tae thank fer that knowledge. And besides, it’s a good opportunity fer Faith tae learn about how the real world works, outside the confines of Lallybroch. She willna learn everything there is to know about the world if she’s stuck inside the royal education chambers day in and day out!” _

Faith was always very glad her parents made an effort to defend her against the courts when needed. But she knew she wouldn’t always have that in the future. One day, they would be gone, and it would be up to her to defend Scotland, Her people, and herself. Sometimes, there were parts of her who wished it was her sister Brianna who had been born first. Despite appearing early on in her life as being more assertive, the roles had slowly reversed between the princesses. Now, it was Brianna who didn’t hesitate to tell anyone the truth of what was on her mind. It was Bree who now possessed a knack for letting everyone in the room know her opinions, whether they wanted to hear it or not. Though, the younger princess did a pretty good job of talking her way out of outright confrontation. Faith, on the other hand, had developed a more sensitive and approachable nature when it came to dealing with the public. She knew one day she would have to outgrow it before she wore the Scottish Crown.

_ Bree’s probably in one of her many science classes at Edinburgh,  _ Faith thought with a smile. Unlike herself, who had no idea what she was going to do with her university opportunity, Brianna, the newly titled Princess Royale of Scotland, made it very clear to her parents that she wanted to get at least one or two degrees in the bioengineering field.

Naturally, their parents were ecstatic with her choice, and their father didn’t hesitate to call up acquaintances at different universities to try and see about getting his daughter in.

_ “Nae, Da,” Brianna stopped him as soon as he picked up the phone. “I want tae do it the traditional way. Test fer it.” _

_ “Are ye sure,  _ a leannan? _ ” Jamie had asked, Faith and their mother sitting and observing the conversation play out. “It willna take me verra long, and we can have ye take a tour within a-” _

_ “I’m sure. I dinna want things handed out tae me because I’m royalty. It t’isna fair. I want tae earn my place there like anyone else. I owe that tae Scotland.” _

_ Beaming with pride, Faith saw her mother and father embrace their youngest daughter, whispering things in English and Gàidhlig of pride and joy. _

That unusually warm autumn afternoon had inspired Faith to do the exact same thing, except instead of following Brianna to Edinburgh, she applied, tested, and got accepted into Stirling University.

She had decided to just do the basic. Two years of traditional academic courses filled with boring lectures, exam crams and frat parties on the weekends. While she had earned her place at the prestigious school, her father had put his foot down and all but commanded her to have a private house far away from the grounds, a hired team of chauffeurs and members of the Highland Royal Guard serving as her personal security detail.

“Ye may have gotten in as a commoner, but yer still the Heiress Apparent tae the Scottish Crown. I willna jeopardise yer safety and weel-bein’ while at uni. As yer King, and more importantly, as yer father, I still have a duty tae uphold.”

_ If Uncle Murtagh were still around, he might have just offered tae do it himself, _ Faith thought bitterly as she walked the halls towards her first class of the day, noticing a few inconspicuous men posing as faculty but were actually Highland Guard members.

A lot of things had changed in the last ten to fifteen years. Good people that had been part of life at Lallybroch Castle for Faith and Brianna were now gone, either replaced with a younger yet equally qualified individual or their position left vacant. Auld Alec, her father’s personal driver, and who was her grandmother’s driver when she was a Clan MacKenzie princess, had perished from the same cancer that had taken his wife many years before. Mistress Annette, nanny to both herself and Bree, had had no choice but to retire early with the onset of Alzheimer’s disease, and passed away not too long after being forced to live in an auld folk’s home. 

Both Margot Gilchrest, her mother’s private secretary, and Geillis Duncan, the midwife who had delivered both princesses, had retired and lived happy lives away from the hustle and bustle of royalty. And her blessed Uncle Murtagh had been killed in a traffic accident some years past. Given he had Fraser blood, he was given royal burial honours and laid to rest in the Clan Fraser crypt. Though, Faith couldn’t remember where exactly his crypt was. It wasn’t anywhere near her grandparents or uncles that she knew of.

Walking into the large auditorium-style classroom, rows of seats stretching across the entire space of the room and at least six levels high, she looked out for her seat. She nonchalantly ignored some of the students who tended to gawk in the presence of royalty and took her seat. Sixteen paces from the entrance, four levels from the floor and podium where the professor gave his lectures, she fished out her notebooks, pen, highlighters, and textbook and prepped for today’s lesson.

“Pardon me, madam,” a voice called out to her. “But is this seat taken?”

“Nae, ye can-”

The second Faith looked up, her heart skipped a beat.

Tall, fair, and with a kind face, the man standing before her simply smiled.

“Thank ye, kindly,” the young man said, sitting beside her to perform the same preparation she had just done not five minutes before. When he looked up, he noticed she was still looking at him. Like he was a fresh-from-the-oven Hogmanay dinner waiting to be devoured. He chuckled a bit, and offered her his hand. “My name is Joshua Andrews. Or Josh, as my friend call me.”

The young princess took his hand and politely shook it. “Faith Fraser.”

“I kent as much,” Josh said with another chuckle. “But when was the last time ye got tae introduce yerself wi’out yer titles? I figured I’d give ye that much.”

“Good morning, everyone,” the professor announced, snapping Faith and Josh’s attention away from each other.

Despite her best efforts, the only thing Faith could do was focus on how her heart raced being in such close proximity of Josh Andrews.

\---

“There’s just something about him, Bree, I canna put my finger on it, but he’s truly lovely,” Faith said into the receiver of the telephone in her condominium just far enough away from Stirling grounds to be considered discreet.

_ “Och, I can smell ye crushin’ on him all the way from here!” _ Brianna joked. It was clear to Faith that she was eating dinner, as her mouth was full.  _ “What’s he doin’ at Stirling?” _

“He wants tae be a doctor, but he’s taking core classes first,” Faith replied, reaching for her dram of whisky. The bottle was a leaving party present from her father. Aged the year her parents had wed, the smoky apricot taste burned smoothly going down her gullet.

_ “Ooh, a doctor! Think of all the roleplaying ye can do!” _ Brianna laughed, making Faith go as red as her hair.

“Brianna Ellen, that’s enough! I willna hear ye nasty talkin’ such a kind lad!” Faith rebuked.

_ “Alright, alright,” _ Brianna relented. “How long have ye been talkin’ then?”

“A month, but he’s formally asked tae court me. He said he didna ken how royals were typically asked out, and wanted tae be sure I wouldna be in trouble wi’ Da.”

_ “I highly doubt Da will care overly much. Given who Mam was. ” _

“Mam was a verra respectable florist ‘afore they met. Hardly a uni crush.”

_ “So what did ye tell him?” _

“Aye, naturally. He’s a real bonny looker, this one, Bree. I...I have a feeling things might go beyond courting...”

_ “Ye think he might be consort material?” _

Faith smiled into the phone, imagining Josh Andrews of Skye being declared King Joshua, Consort of Scotland, heart eyes all around on their wedding day. “I dinna think there’s a maybe involved.”

_ “Speakin’ o’ Mam and Da, have ye rung home lately? Specifically wi’ Da. Last time I rang, he didna sound like he was verra weel.” _

“Aye? Huh...I hadna noticed. Weel, dinna fash, little sister. I’d planned tae come back to Lallybroch this week-end fer a visit. I’ll inquire about his weel bein’.”

\---

_ Lallybroch Castle _ _   
_ _ Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser _ _   
_ _ 8 April 1994 _ _   
_ _ 9:34am Local Time _

Jamie knew something was wrong when he didn’t have the stomach for breakfast. This naturally stunned the Queen, and she immediately attempted to summon the family doctor. Jamie wished he hadn’t declined her fervent offer.

Around noon, he felt tightness in his chest. Then, it suddenly became hard for him to breathe. Panicking, he was reaching for the call box to summon help but his hand never made it. It was as if all the blood had drained from his body, leaving him as spineless as a jellyfish. He collapsed on the floor of his study, and wouldn’t be found for at least another fifteen minutes.

_ Later That Evening _

“Heart attack?” Claire had gasped.

“I’m afraid so, Yer Majesty,” the doctor told her and her daughters, who had rushed back home from their respective universities upon receiving news of their father’s ailments.

Following Jamie’s collapse, one of the Guardsmen had knocked on the door. When no one answers, a very telling sign that something was wrong, the Guard opened the door and walked in uninvited to find the King unconscious on the floor, lips and fingernails bluer than the Scottish flag, and not breathing. A medical emergency was declared and all available staff members came to their King’s aid. The Queen was summoned from a spring holiday on one of the Western Isles with Jenny, and the princesses were pulled out of classes for the remainder of the week and ordered to return to Lallybroch per the Queen.

Claire was the first person to see Jamie, locked down under a barrage of medical equipment aimed at preserving his life. There was something wrong with his heart that didn’t includes any kind of blockage or plaque buildup in his arteries, like what normally causes a heart attack. More testing was done to determine what had happened. But for the time being, it was a waiting game.

“Will he live?” Claire asked, “Will...will he wake up?”

The doctor gave her a pensive look. “The only reason he’s in a coma now is tae give his body a chance tae heal and recover while we figure out the cause. Dinna fash, Yer Majesty. The King is a verra healthy man. We will get tae the bottom o’ this.”

Four days passed before Jamie started to arouse from his medically induced slumber. Claire and their daughters were the first things he saw when the breathing tube was removed from his lungs.

“M-My g-girls,” he stuttered, bringing small gasps of relief from all three Fraser women.

“Da,” Faith whispered as she and Brianna bent over the railing to hug their father.

Jamie looked up to see a tear-stricken Claire looking down at him. “S-Sassnch...” he whispered. Speaking caused him much pain.

“My darling,” she said softly as he opened his arms for her. She buried her face into his chest.

Faith nudged Brianna’s shoulder, who nodded in agreement. Then both young princesses stepped out into the corridor to give their parents some privacy.

\---

“Dilated cardiomyopathy,” Claire had explained a few days later. Jamie was sitting up in his hospital bed, finally having the stomach, and doctor’s orders, to eat lunch. “They’re not sure how you’ve developed it, but the left ventricle and atria of your heart are weakened considerably, and they believe that’s the reason why you had a heart attack at only forty-seven.”

Jamie finished his lunch, downed the cup of juice that was given to him, and hummed in response. “I think...I think I’ve always known something was wrong wi’ my heart...it started many years ago.”

This revelation shocked Claire. “You knew?! Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you get treatment?” She was clearly angry, and Jamie couldn’t blame her.

“At the time, it wasna saw bad. A few skips here, racin’ heartbeat there, stress makin’ it more pronounced, ‘specially round the time my father died. Ye recall when I passed out after Jenny and Laoghaire declared I was tae marry the lass?” 

Claire nodded, remembering all too well how she had been dragged about and beaten like a lowly trespasser. It didn’t make her feel any better about current events. 

“Aye, well,” Jamie continued, “it didna get much better after that. I couldna work out wi’out my heart going in and out of a normal rhythm, and o’ course, the stress o’ the courts and the bairns bein’ born, raisin’ them, and ruling Scotland...I’m no’ tryin’ tae make excuses...I just put it off...”

Claire wanted to be angry with Jamie, for putting off his health concerns before now. But he was being truthful: their lives  _ had  _ been the epitome of stress as sovereigns. Between having the girls, fighting the Scottish Court of Sovereign over their birthright to be Queen, running the country, and the day to day life of just  _ being _ royal, Claire could understand and even justify a bit why Jamie felt there were more pressing matters than his health.

But now, he would pay the price for his ignorance.

“Look at the bright side, Sassenach,” Jamie reached out a finger to lift her chin up, bringing them eye to eye. He smiled. “At least I’m handling it now. I’m still relatively young, no’ even fifty yet. I still have time, aye?”

Claire’s resolve broke. She glared at him.

“Sure, you have time. About six to twelve months!”

Jamie blinked. “Erm...what?”

“Jamie,” Claire said slowly, pulling out a small stack of papers. They were Jamie’s medical diagnosis and test results. “The doctors are not as optimistic as you are. It...it’s bad, Jamie. They’re saying this problem has been ignored for so long...it...they...I-” her voice cracked, as did Jamie’s apparently-ailing heart. 

“Claire,” Jamie said. “Tell it to me straight. What did they say? The doctors.”

Claire composed herself enough so that her voice wouldn’t crack under the grief. “The doctor told me that you’re in irreversible heart failure. You could take a whole pharmacy worth of medication to treat the individual symptoms, but...oh God, Jamie...it won’t reverse the damage. You could live long enough to see Faith and Brianna get married and have children...but most likely...you’ll most likely see Hogmanay...but that’s it...”

The world was crumbling around Claire, but Jamie looked as if he had just been told he needed a bandaid for a small cut.

“Yer certain, Sassenach. This canna be fixed...or cured?”

Claire looked up at him again, painfully meeting his eyes. The tears were now coating her cheeks in a fine sheen of shiny wetness. “No.”

Jamie took a deep breath, and placed a hand over the offending organ. He felt five or six heartbeats before saying, “weel...ye ken what this means, aye?”

Claire just nodded. “Yes...I do.”

\---

_ Lallybroch Castle _ _   
_ _ 1 May 1994 _ __   
_ Main Parlor _ _   
_ __ 1:45pm Local Time

Jamie did the best he could after being given a terminal illness and decided to live the best life he could, while his lungs could still draw breath. He did not want his birthday this year to be clouded by the possibility that it could be his last. Turning forty-eight was going to be the biggest celebration Lallybroch Castle had ever seen in modern times.

“Happy Birthday!!!” The barrage of people shouted as they blew streamers and snapped poppers open in the main parlor of the castle. Jamie invited everyone he could think of that had been there for him during his life.

_ “Mòran taing!” _ Jamie called out with a bright smile. He sat in front of a huge cake that spelled out  _ Happy Birthday His Majesty King James III!  _ on it. He had had to make some heavy dietary changes over the last few months, so the cake was not as sugary and cholesterol-filled as it could have been. Though, everyone agreed that it didn’t make it taste any less like a delicious cake.

Jamie had also insisted that no one give him gifts. Instead, they make donations in his honour towards the Scottish National Heart and Vascular Research Center. The only thing the papers knew about his diagnosis was that he had been hospitalized after a “dizzy spell” and was “on the mend, feeling fine.” Jamie had decided that it was up to Claire and the girls if they wanted to reveal his true ailment after his passing.

After the party, the four immediate members members of Clan Fraser gathered in his study to discuss particulars.

“Abdication?” Brianna stuttered, her jaw hitting the floor at the same time.

“Aye,” Jamie said seriously. “Girls. Ye ken weel that I dinna have much time left. Hell, I dinna ken how much time is ‘little’. But it’s time tae start preparin’ fer the inevitable.

“When my father died, I wasna prepared tae take the throne. I didna make verra good choices. Yer mother can attest tae that. But that’s no’ the point. I shall inform the Court o’ Sovereign and inquire how long it’ll take tae get Faith anointed.”

“Annointed?” Faith asked timidly. Her heart started pounding.

“Aye...yer mother and I will see to it that yer the best Queen ye can be the day of yer anointing.”

Silence passed between the four Frasers, then Jamie stepped forward to face Faith. He brought a thumb to her forehead, and crossed it lightly.

“I bless ye, Faith Jocasta Caitriona Fraser of Broch Tuarach...in God’s name...as Scotland’s new Sovereign. Go forth...follow yer heart,  _ a leannan. _ ”


	13. Isla of Scots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Her Royal Highness Faith Jocasta Caitriona Fraser of Broch Tuarach becomes Queen of Scotland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finale will be up in a few days! Thank you everyone who’s stuck with this series for so long!
> 
> TW: Remember when I put in the tags that another major character death was coming later on? Yeah. Here it is. Sorry :(

_His Majesty King James III’s Study  
Lallybroch Castle   
Seat of the Royal House of Clan Fraser   
9 October 1994 _

It was painstaking. Not just for how long it all took, but the action itself. All the actions taken in that room. Faith felt herself trembling. With fear, with anxiety, and with sadness.

This would soon be her study.

Like her father before her.

_“I, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, King of Scotland, do hereby abdicate my birthright as King and Sovereign, in light of failing health. I hereby proclaim it my will and pleasure that my first born daughter, Her Royal Highness Princess Faith Jocasta Caitriona Fraser, succeeds me as monarch, sovereign, and Queen of Scotland, upon this Ninth day of October, in the Year of Our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-Four, this tenth hour and forty-second minute, ante meridiem.”_

She watched her father, more frail and weak that he was the previous day, carefully sign away his throne, all of Scotland and Her People, into her inexperienced hands. Her mother and sister bore witnessed to this act with signatures of their own. The Lord President of the Scottish Court of Sovereign was overseeing this exchange, his signature to be the final piece of the puzzle that made King James III’s abdication from the Scottish throne legal.

Signatures made, papers stamped and decreed, the Lord President said aloud, “It’s settled then. We shall commence with the coronation ceremony immediately. Expect tae hear final details o’ it next week. Good day tae ye all. _Sàbhail Dia a Bhanrigh._ ”

Faith’s heart nearly stopped at his last sentence.

_God Save Her Queen._

\---

Later that week, Faith sat down with the coronation committee formed the day her father’s abdication paperwork was signed, to discuss those final plans.

Naturally, the only place for her to be anointed was Our Lady of Divinity Abbey in Edinburgh. And in much the same fashion that her parents were crowned. There was no question of that. Faith was mostly sitting there, trying her best to listen to them drone on and on about details that really had nothing to do with her, while itching to go spend more time with her ailing father.

Jamie was now spending more and more time in his bed chamber, her mother hardly ever leaving his side except to use the loo or get some fresh air. Brianna had announced that she would be taking a sabbatical from university until all these matters were either resolved, or her father was being buried in the Clan Fraser crypts. Either way, it was just easier. The younger princess promised her father that she would go and finished what she had started, and would make him proud.

“It would be a verra good idea, Yer Majesty,” Faith heard the tailend of the conversation, “if we could decide here and now what yer name will be.”

Faith blinked. “My name?”

“Aye. Yer regnal name. The name ye will go by as Queen of Scotland. Yer father and grandfather both kept their formal Christian names, just added necessary suffixes tae differentiate betwix their predecessors.”

Faith thought about it for a moment. And it came to her.

“Isla of Scots.”

The Lord Vice President and Lord President both gave her their own astonished blinks. “Beg yer pardon, Yer Majesty?”

Faith just smiled. “Isla. Scottish feminine word meaning vibrant, dynamic, bright as the sun. Given I have my Da’s colouring, I found it tae be fitting. And, o’ course, I canna ferget where I come from, eh? There ye have it. Isla of Scots.”

The men exchanged looks before giving Faith an impressed look of approval.

“Long live Queen Isla of Scots.”

“I also have one more thing that I wish tae declare ‘afore this meetin’ is done. My betrothed.”

That had both the men’s attention.

“Seek out one Joshua Andrews from the Isle of Skye. He’s a medical student at the University of Stirling. The two of us have been courtin’ and datin’ fer a few months now. Seeing as I am tae be queen much sooner than originally anticipated, I wish tae marry him. Should he accept my proposal, he shall serve as King Consort tae the Scottish Crown.”

Both men assured the young queen that they would dispatch all the necessary arrangements for Josh to come to Lallybroch Castle and arrange marriage. Faith was certain that he would accept. They had talked about the future, and both of them clearly saw one another in it. She just hoped the idea of him being her King Consort wouldn’t be too overwhelming.

\---

The only thing that was different between Faith and Joshua’s ascension to the Scottish throne compared to her parents was the fact that both her mother and father officially assumed new identities and roles. Faith had insisted that Jamie didn’t have to come as he was very ill and worried that his dramatic change in appearance would shock the public.

“I wouldna miss this fer the whole world, _mo_ _ghràidh,_ ” Jamie insisted. “Yer ready fer this. And I’m ready tae see it through to the end. Aye?”

Faith and Joshua were anointed, and then Jamie stepped forward to kneel before his new Sovereign, pledging an oath.

_“I, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, do herein pledge my obedience as Sovereign, and as kin. If ever my hand or weapon of choice is raised against either o’ ye in rebellion, may I be condemned as a traitor tae the Scottish Crown, and may Justice swiftly take me down, so help me God.”_

The bishop who had anointed his daughter and future son-in-law came forward to anoint the former King, and place a new, less cumbersome crown upon his head. It was adorned with embroidered blue and white flowers, the diamonds and pearls encrusted around the points gleaming in the lights of the Abbey.

“In the presence of God, Scotland, and Her People, I do proclaim within my duties of the Church of Scotland ye, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, formally known as King James III, as The Father King. _Moladh an Tighearna!_ ”

 _“Moladh an Tighearna!”_ The congregation in the Abbey echoed.

Jamie kissed his daughter on the cheek before moving away, his new crown balanced precariously on his head. He then bowed his head towards Joshua, who returned the gesture with one of the regal handwaves he’d been taught. Then, Claire stepped forward to pledge her own vow of loyalty.

_“I, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Fraser, do herein pledge my obedience as Sovereign, and as kin. If ever my hand or weapon of choice is raised against either of you in rebellion, may I be condemned as a traitor to the Scottish Crown, and may Justice swiftly take me down, so help me God.”_

Just like Jamie, Claire stepped forward and kissed her daughter on the cheek, and bowed before her soon-to-be son-in-law. Also like Jamie, the bishop adorned her head with a new crown. It was a bit more subtle than Jamie’s, just as Claire wanted it; she was no longer queen therefore no need to upstage her own daughter. Claire was officially declared “Queen Claire, The Queen Mother.”

Brianna pledged a similar oath, but instead of a kiss on the cheek, she and her sister broke traditional customs. Faith stood up and gave her younger sister a tight squeeze of a hug. By this point in Scotland’s monarch history, the Scottish people were used to traditions being forsaken and ignored in favor of familial love and appreciation. They kissed each other on both cheeks, and Faith returned to her anointing throne next to her betrothed King Consort. While Brianna was not given a new crown, her new title of Princess Royale of Scotland, was officially declared.

The Scottish National anthem played and Queen Isla of Scots and her future husband, King Joshua of Skye, were allowed to perform the usual procession and parade, celebrating the passing of the torch to a new generation of monarchy.

Two months later, on the 20th of November, in the Year of Our Lord 1994, Faith and Josh were wed in the same Abbey they had been anointed as sovereign in. They had been living separately as Catholic traditions demanded (something Jamie was absolutely _not_ going to skimp on) with Faith staying in her own bed chamber at Lallybroch Castle, and Joshua hosted at Beaufort Castle, where he got to know and get accustomed to royal life with Faith’s aunt and uncle, Jenny and Ian. His time there had been wonderful and a once-in-a-lifetime experience. During the last fifteen years of so, Jenny and Ian had had three more children, two more boys and a little girl, and the Murrays were thrilled to see how well Joshua interacted with their children.

“I’m the youngest of eight, Auntie,” Joshua had said one day while he was braiding wee Princess Maggie’s hair without even looking at her. And, of course, Jenny and Ian insisted he called them as Faith does, despite being their King. “And six o’ them were older sisters. If I dinna have a brother, I dinna ken where I’d be today!”

“Aye, ye’ll do just fine, _a charaid,_ ” Ian piped up, giving him a hair tie to secure Maggie’s new braids.

“Aren’t they lovely, _a leannan?_ ” Joshua peered around wee Maggie’s face to smile at her in the mirror.

“Aye! Thank ye, cousin Joshua!” Maggie got up and hugged him fiercely. “Och! I mean, Yer _Majesty!_ ” Maggie stood up and curtsied in dramatic jest. Joshua laughed at this.

Faith and Brianna spent as much time together as they could before the real work of their new tasks in life began. As soon as the holidays were over and Hogmanay had passed, Brianna would return to the University of Edinburgh and Faith would begin the work that would define her life.

Being Isla of Scots, Queen of Scotland.

\---

**Two Months Later**

_January 1995_   
_Castle Leoch_ _  
Doune, Stirling, Scotland_

Hogmanay had come and gone. Faith was now in the full swing of her duties as Queen, Joshua faithfully by her side throughout. Brianna had gone back to Edinburgh to complete her education, and would only return to the Highlands upon the passing of her father.

For Claire Beauchamp Fraser, The Queen Mother, she had been through a lot in her life up to this point.

She’d lost her parents at a very young age, spend her formative years traveling with her Uncle while he did his crazy archeology research and teachings at Oxford, failed out of nursing school, opened and ran a flower and herb shop, and had her world turned upside down by a certain red-headed royal who was anything but relationship material in her eyes.

At first.

If someone had told her then, in less than 20 years, that same young man who cared more about his rugged appearance in the Scottish tabloids than running his home country would become the most wonderful, loving husband in the world, father her beautiful children, and lead Scotland into a modern age, just by marrying the commoner that she was, she would’ve laughed and demanded they go get their head evaluated.

But it had happened. It had not been easy, but just as Jamie had told her-

_“If members from two wartorn, feuding clans can managed to make it work…so can we.”_

They _had_ made it work.

And now the hardest part of her entire life was upon her.

Watching that beautiful, strong, amazing leader of a man, her husband, her King, her soulmate, her heart, fade away before her eyes.

His heart had significantly weakened more than it was before Faith took the throne. He was seeing the cardiologist at least once a week to monitor the condition. Jamie was offered the good chance of a heart transplant, but the reality was-

_“I’ll more than likely die on the transplant list ‘afore my turn comes up. There are people out there who need a functioning heart more than I do. And knowing the hospital system, they’ll put me at the top because of who I am. That t’isna fair. I willna do it. I willna rob a commoner o' the chance tae live because I was their King. I’ve lived a good life, Sassenach. Truly, I have! I’ve done more wi’ my life than people twice my age can claim! And through it all, I had ye by my side. I've no life but you, mo nighean donn. I’m no’ afraid tae die, Sassenach. Only afraid tae live wi’ this pain.”_

_“But what about me? You say you have no life without me, but I'm still here! Begging you to live!” Claire had started sobbing into his chest. “What about our daughters? Faith and Josh have stated they plan to have as many children as God will allow! How can you say that when the prospect of being a grandfather is on the horizon?!” And Brianna? She promised you she would make you proud in university! How can she go on trying to make you proud if you're not here?!"_

_“Dinna fash,_ a ghràidh, _” Jamie had responded in his now-familiar hushed whisper, for that was all his failing body could muster. “‘Tis my choice. My life. And I have made it. I canna claim tae be alive if I’m confined tae a bed for the rest o’ it. No. I willna waste away as my father did. I just pray that God takes me home as quickly as my mother brought me into this world. Ye understand.”_

Claire did understand, but it was still a hard prospect to imagine living the rest of her days with only half of her heart.

Jamie had discovered that the last living member of Clan MacKenzie and direct relative of his mother’s had passed away shortly after Hogmanay. So he endeavored to purchase Castle Leoch, to keep it in the family. It didn’t take much, seeing as it was common knowledge that the last Laird, Lord Jacob MacKenzie was Jamie’s maternal grandfather. He utilized some of his own personal funds to purchase the castle and surrounding grounds. It would be his last deed before ascending to Heaven.

“I want tae die where my mother was born, Sassenach,” Jamie had told her as a servant wheeled him through the castle’s main hall. He’d further weakened to the point where simply walking from his bed to the loo sent his heart into contracting spasms, which was what caused the initial heart attack in the first place. His doctor ordered him to be wheelchair bound. This oder only furthered his reasons for refusing surgical intervention. Maybe it was the fact that such interventions hadn’t saved his father’s life, and therefore he saw no point in “delaying the inevitable,” but there was no point in arguing with him. True to his Fraser blood, when he made up his mind on something, nothing would change it.

Still, Claire would lay in bed at night with him, her head upon his chest, listening to his heart’s blood slowly ebb away with each heartbeat, and she wished she could change his mind. She wished she could do _something, anything,_ that would convince her husband to live longer.

It was a cold, rainy January night when Claire went up to use the loo. But when she came back, her world imploded in on her.

Jamie was no longer breathing.

And he was cold. _So_ cold.

His lips were already turning a dark shade of blue and black.

His heart was most likely just as cold in his chest, sitting as still as he now lay.

He had to have passed sometime during the night.

While he was in her arms.

Claire lost all pretense of rationality.

Her anguished screams of agony echoed throughout the castle as she gathered him into her arms, weeping until the break of dawn.

The servants who brought in a breakfast for two and prepared the Father King for his day each morning didn’t hesitate to run out of the room and ring Lallybroch Castle.

_“Thank ye fer contactin’ Lallybroch Castle, how shall I direct yer call?”_

“I need to speak tae the Queen directly. The Loch Ness Monster has been found. I repeat, The Loch Ness Monster has been found! And be quick about it, lass!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moladh an Tighearna = The Lord be praised


	14. History and Tradition, Be Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Isla of Scots makes some remarks at her father’s funeral that will reshape what it means to be Sovereign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! It’s always a wee bit sad to me when I finish writing a series lol. One last thank you to everyone who’s given this series so much love, praise, kudos, and everything in between! Onto the next one!

Joshua embraced his wife and Queen from behind in their bed chamber. Both were decked out in their full royal funeral regalia, with the King Consort in his Andrews family kilt, a black sash covering the strip of Fraser tartan across his chest to signify mourning. Faith was in her most formal black gown, complete with long black veil and a recessed crown. She, too, had a strip of her Clan’s tartan across her chest covered with a black strip.

“It’s gonna be alright, my dear,” Joshua whispered in her ear, kissing the side of her neck. “Yer a braw lass, but more than that, yer the Queen of Scotland. Yer Da is verra proud o’ ye.”

Faith sighed. “I ken. I...I just...didna think we’d be here sae soon. I figured we had time. At least until we could have our first bairn. Wanted Da tae at least see that...before...” she stifled a small sob, determined to be brave.

But she knew she didn’t have to be with Joshua beside her.

“Ye have me here,” he affirmed, “and yer Ma. Yer sister. Yer auntie and uncle, their bairns. And ye have all of Scotland standin’ behind ye. Dinna fash. All will be weel. Wi’ time.”

A hug, a kiss, and a deep breath later, Faith led the way out of their bed chamber and towards the awaiting car that would take them towards Our Royal Lady of Divinity Abbey to say goodbye to her father.

Jamie.

\---

It was as somber as Faith had expected it to be. There wasn’t a dry eye among her from beginning to end. Her poor mother’s face was barely recognizable through her own black veil, the amount of crying she had been doing made her look much older. Faith’s heart went out to her; if anyone was going to be feeling her father’s loss the most, it was The Queen Mother.

The former king’s casket was a simple one. Faith made sure of it personally. Aged, hand-carved mahogany donated from a local kirk, simple brass handles on the sides, and a silver cross nailed onto the front towards the top. All of the metal adornments were melted down pieces of jewelry directly from the Clan Fraser vault deep within Lallybroch Castle, handpicked by Claire, Faith and Brianna. It was traditional for royals to be buried in their sovereign clothes, but James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, second son of King Brian IV and King of Scotland for twenty-six years, was anything but traditional. Claire picked out one of Jamie’s favorite button-down flannels, a white shirt to go underneath it, and his tattered Fraser colours, pleated by Faith herself. He only wore stockings, no boots, as Jamie had a strange superstition of wearing shoes after death.

_ “I dinna wish tae be able to come back if I’m able to. My home will be Heaven until we’re all together again.” _

If the man had been traditional at all, Faith was certain she would have never been born.

It was that thought she locked into her head as she got up to read a eulogy prepared on behalf of herself and her family.

The Royal House of Clan Fraser.

“History is supposed to not be predestined. It’s to be set in stone, and to be used only as a tool for life lessons. The same could be said about tradition. Tradition is supposed to be a guidebook to our lives, aided and supported by history. But what if it didn’t have to be? What if we could determine our own fates? History and tradition be damned? Erm...sorry Father.”

The priest gave Faith a small smile and a nod of the head before she continued on.

“I say that’s how life should be lived. And clearly, my father agreed wi’ this mindset. History doesna dictate where our future will take us. It’s how ye act on current circumstances that dictate yer future. Every step he took was a choice. Between right and wrong, love and hate, even life or death. My father threw out the rule book and declared personal happiness at home was a crucial element to being a successful sovereign, never-minding what anyone thought o’ him, from the Scottish Court o’ Sovereign tae the average citizen. He kent he couldna run the country successfully wi’out the right person by his side. And with that, he chose my mother to be that person.

“Every choice he made wasna meant tae shake up the courts and cause a stramash. He dedicated his life tae turning Scotland into a place where all are welcome, where history wouldna be used tae justify our actions from the past, and tradition wasna needed tae forge yer own. I kent my father never worried about what legacy he would be leaving behind because...I believe I am his legacy. His wife is his legacy. Each and every citizen of Scotland, past, present, and future, was, is and will  _ always _ be his legacy.”

Faith gathered up her little note cards containing her speech and paid one last stop before her father’s coffin. She placed a hand on her lips, kissed it and gave it to him. The blown-up portrait of him in his younger days stood right beside it, and Faith took a moment to study it. His hair was long and wavy, fiery red curls standing out in the spotlight of the photographer’s set up. His eyes as blue as a bottomless ocean so deep you could get lost in them. Many times in her youth, Faith had done just that. And his smile blazed brighter than any sun shining on any planet, white and gleaming to match his overall personality.

The bairn. The rebel. Prince Broch Tuarach (or Broch Mordha, depending on who you asked). King James III.

Jamie Fraser had many names, but the only one that ever mattered to him, above all else, was  _ Da. _

\---

The next several years were a whirlwind for the Fraser clan. Joshua made a point to tell his wife that their children should keep the Fraser name, to continue the Clan Fraser rule. While Faith said it wasn’t necessary, her husband was insistent. Claire, naturally, was emotional about this news. 

“I know your father would be honoured and proud,” The Queen Mother told her daughter. “And I am too.”

Two years after Jamie’s passing, Faith and Joshua would become the parents of a wee prince. The first of three sons the royal couple would produce. His Royal Highness Prince James William Andrew Fraser of Broch Tuarach was born with a healthy set of lungs and a small tuft of red hair atop his head. The next to follow were twin daughters and the only princesses of this line. The other two boys were born when the princesses were four, and they were twins also!

“I never thought anyone in our family was capable of producing twins,” Claire had told Faith when she brought the twin boys over to meet their grandmother. She was holding the younger of the two, Prince Simon Murtagh Malcolm Fraser. His older brother by about a minute and a half, Prince Brian Edward Michael Fraser, was being held by his auntie Brianna. The latter was in absolute awe of her sister’s capacity to bear so many children in such a short time.

“He’s just the most darlin’ thing!” Brianna squealed in delight, causing Faith and Claire to laugh.

Brianna would go on to complete her Ph. D in biochemical engineering, a field she was practically in love with. So much so, that she dedicated her life to her work and her job to the point where she decided she would never marry or have children. 

“I think you’ve made a fine decision, Bree,” Claire told her youngest child. “Whether you settled down or pursued a career, your father is very proud of you. I just know it.”

“I know he is too,” Bree said with a sad smile. “I can...feel him sometimes...when I’m working, ye ken?”

“Aye,” Faith agreed. “I ken verra weel.”

“Both of you working together for the greater good makes us both proud. Never forget that,” Claire concluded.

Jamie Fraser’s untimely passing led Brianna to choose a career field that would aid in the development of better cardiac medical practices. It was fate to pitch her ultimate idea to her sister. Five years later, her dream would become a reality. Her passion project for which she would be known. 

Professionally, Her Royal Highness Brianna, Princess Royale of Scotland, and her big sister Queen Isla of Scots combined their experience, influence, and passion to form a healthcare alliance with England and Wales to create new ways to treat a variety of cardiac ailments, including cardiomyopathy. The United Kingdoms of Britannia Division of Heart and Vascular Medicine would change the world.

But privately, it was just two sisters trying to make their father’s unexpected death mean something. It was their way of avenging the unseen and silent killer that stole their Da away from them, and robbed Scotland of a wonderful king far too soon.

Within fifteen years of the Division being officially launched, science and research had allowed doctors to detect potentially fatal cardiac ailments well in advanced, enough to prevent them altogether. Another five years after that, cardiomyopathy-induced heart attacks were reduced by nearly 70% across the British Isles, and another 47% worldwide. The United States joined forces with the UKB, which started a trend of nations around the world joining their ranks in the fight against heart diseases of all kinds.

While Princess Brianna would be given most of the credit for starting this initiative, as well as serving on the regulations committee board for the remainder of her life, it would be Faith, Queen Isla of Scots’ crowning achievement. For without her approval, it never would have happened in the first place.

“I dinna believe in vengeance,” Faith said to the grave of her Da one unusually warm sunny day, “but today, Da, I lay vengeance at yer feet.”

\---

Castle Leoch   
Doune, Stirling, Scotland   
1 November 2048

Queen Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Fraser, The Queen Mother, died on a snowy November morning at the ripe age of one-hundred-and-one, with her daughters holding her hands as she fell into an eternal slumber.

Despite being widowed and the Queen Mother, Claire’s life in the public eye never slowed down, even as her age climbed into the 90s. She still supported and actively participated in the charity endeavours she started back in the 60s. When her grandchildren started to grow up and have kids of their own, she took a step back to enjoy the feeling of holding an infant again. She was the ultimate grandmother and great-grandmother, never shying away from interacting with them. She got to see Faith flourish even further as a grandmother herself. Both of them seemed to have more energy between the two of them than all the kids combined! Christmas and Hogmanay every year was a treat because they were still there

As technology grew and her health dwindled to near-immobility, she relied on the advancements in communication to see her great-grandchildren thrive and evolve into functioning members of society. They lovingly referred to her as “Gam-Gam,” to which she couldn’t get enough of.

Towards her late nineties, Claire had quite a few falls from waning stability and equilibrium that came with old age, and she made the decision to be wheelchair bound to prevent further accidents. When she turned 100, she had developed a few legions on her brain that indicated cognitive degeneration. It was getting harder for her to remember things or to stay awake during the day. 

With her last fall about three weeks before her death resulting in both hips being broken, she knew it was only a matter of time before she wouldn’t be here much longer. Her daughters were by her side when she made her final wishes known. A royal notary and family lawyer were present for the documentation portion of it.

After the men had left, Faith just had one question.

“Do ye regret any o’ it, Ma?”

Claire blinked slowly and looked towards her oldest daughter. The Queen who would soon become The Queen Mother herself, as her Jamie was poised to inherit his mother’s throne.

“Oh, darling,” Claire’s voice croaked with audible effort, her breathing labored from exertion and fatigue. “To regret my life...is to regret you two...and your father...and I will be  _ damned _ if I ever regret the most...wonderful man...I’ve ever known...”

Queen Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Fraser, The Queen Mother, died on a snowy November morning at the ripe age of one-hundred-and-one, with both her daughters holding her hands as she fell into her eternal sleep.

\---

_ I had no idea where I was at first. However the first thing I remember feeling was...lighter? When I looked down at my hands, I found not the ever-growing liver spots across the back, but smooth, supple skin. My back didn’t have that pain I had long since grown accustomed up with growing old and brittle, and my ankles were no longer the knobby, bony splinters of my once agile running feet. _

_ It was like I hadn’t aged at all. _

_ “What in the world?” I whispered to no one. _

_ “Och! There ye are, a chuisle!” An older femenine voice called out from the abyss. _

_ “Who said that?” I called back lamely. I must be getting old and senile if I’m hearing voices. _

_ “O’er here!” The voice called out towards my right. I turned, and my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. _

_ “B-Brianna?!” _

_ The woman who materialized before me was the absolute spitting image of my youngest daughter in her younger years. She was in her mid-70s now...or...last time I saw her. _

_ Then it hit me. _

Am I dead?

_ “Dinna fash yerself, mah dearie! We wouldna start the party wi’out ye! Now come along!” the woman who scarily resembled my daughter took me by the arm and started dragging me with her. To where, I was not sure. _

_ As we walked, images and scenery grew to life around us. Beautiful depictions of the Scottish Highland wilderness painted itself in vast expansive bright purple heather fields, sprawling berry-laden browns and reds of Rowan trees, ice-capped mountains that I knew stayed that way all year round just outside Inverness, where Lallybroch Castle stood. _

_ When we reached our destination, I...well, I don’t know what I was expecting, but where I thought the large, five story, brown stoned castle known as Lallybroch stood was replaced with a smaller, yet by no means small, white-stone bricked building with surrounding crofts and cottages. Its courtyard was surrounded by matching white-brick walls, and a few vegetable patches scattered throughout.  _ _   
_ _ At least twenty or thirty people were all congregated in the courtyard, drinking and talking amongst themselves. Some were telling jokes to a small crowd, laughter erupting every few moments. A few children were also running around the legs of the adults, playing with wooden sticks and trying to pass a faded leather ball with it. _

_ It hit me right then and there. Not only was I dead, but I was _ home.

_ And the woman escorting me here was Queen Ellen MacKenzie Fraser of Broch Tuarach herself. My predecessor. _

_ My heart was in my throat when I saw who all was waiting for us as they turned around to face the entrance where we stood. _

_ The tall, dark haired man had to have been King Brian, my father in law, talking with Murtagh, Alec, and who I presumed to be Dougal and Colum, Ellen’s younger brothers. Beside them were Jenny, Ian, and their oldest son wee Jamie, who I remembered had died a few years prior to natural causes. Margot, Geillis, her husband Arthur Duncan, Mistress Annette, my daughter’s nanny during their young, and a few others I didn’t recognize were standing across from the first group. All of them were smiling at us. _

_ Most of the children I did not recognize, but one I most definitely did. How could I not? He had my husband’s slanted cat eyes. Willie. _

_ Of all the people waiting to greet us, I noticed that there was one missing. The most important one. For me at least. _

_ “Sassenach!” _

_ My heart all but stopped. Wait...could it do that if I was already dead? It sure felt like it. I turned around to see him. _

_ Jamie. _

_ Whether or not I had a heartbeat, I could most definitely cry. The tears welled up like never before. It was like he had never aged. Never died. He looked exactly like the young, twenty-three year old stubborn, rebellious prince I had met all those years ago in my floral shop. Blue eyes, long red hair, his signature dapper look with the same kilt he was buried in. Only it looked like it was brand new. Probably because at the time, it was. The man who pursued me for months on end. The man who never gave up on me. On us.  _

_ Thinking back now, that was the first day of the rest of our lives. _

_ “There ye are!” Jamie said with that bright, shit-eating smile on his face, happy as ever. “I see ye met my Mam. Ye gettin’ along weel, aye?” _

_ “Och, she’s just darlin’!” Ellen exclaimed, accepting a kiss on the cheek from her son. “She’s made fine work o’ Scotland in my place, right enough. She’s verra braw. Worthy o’ bein’ Queen.” _

_ It wasn’t until Jamie took me into his arms that I felt the rest of our world fade away. It was just us. _

_ I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could, as if to choke the very breath out of him. He smelled of warm heather, male essence, whisky and woodsmoke. Just like he always did. My tears refused to stop. Neither one of us seemed to mind. But when he looked back up at me, his own eyes were wet and leaky just like mine. _

_ He took my hand into his and pressed it firmly into the center of his chest. If I concentrated hard enough, I could feel his heart pounding strong and steady. _

_ “Dinna be afraid, mo nighean donn,” Jamie whispered. _

_ I finished his statement for him, my smile so wide I felt my face would break. _

_ “There’s the two of us now.” _

**_F I N_ **


End file.
